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COLOR GU^RB 




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WITH 




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Dedicated to the Intere3t 




QF THE 




Or. A^. Pt. 




t?:e=loy-, isr. Y-. : 

STOWELL & RISING, STEAM PRINTERS. 

1877. ^ 1 



THE 



Color Guard, 



^^ 



WITH 




pf:DIc|ATED TO THE IwTEREgT 



OF THE 



Jt 



C3r. J^. R 




STOWELL & RISING, STgAM PRINTERS. 
1877. 



^ 



<h'' 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1870, by 

' Col. a. R. CALHOUN, ; 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



This Play has been duly copyrighted, according to Act of Congress 
regulating the same. The production of this Play by any person or per- 
sons without the consent of the management will be prosecuted to the 
full extent of law. 

WILL. H. GUNN, 

OWNER OF COPYRIGHT AND MANAGER, 

Box 206, Newport, Kentucky. 
N. B. This Book must be returned to the Manager. 



Bob Mason, 
Alfred Thornton, 
Louis Ludlow, 
Jackson Ludlow, 
Jack Johnson, 
Sam Roberts, 
Jim Hansom, 
Mr. Ludlow, 
Squire Williams, 
Farmer Johnson, 
Mr. McDonald, - 
Tom Flynn, 
Long George, 
Bill Davis, 
Father Allen, 
Peter Hygley, 
Colonel Wilson, 
Adjutant, 
Sergeant, 

Four Union Refugees, 
Major Clark, 
Union Guard, 
Capt. Forsyth, 
Turner, 
Lieutenant, 

TONEY, 

Washington, 
George Adams, 
Newsboy, • - 

Darkey Girl, 



Tennesseean, afterward Union Scout 

Afterwards Capt. C. S. A 

Afterwards Color Bearer 

Afterwards Color Guard 

Afterwards Color Guard 

Afterwards Color Guard 

Afterwards Color Guard 

Village Banker 

School Trustee 

Citizen 

Post- Master 

- Deluded Irishman 

Tennessee Unionist 

Mountaineer 

Union Refugee 

- Dutchman in much drubble 

U S. A 

- U. S. A 
U.S. A 

Officer of the Day, U. S. A 

- U. S. A 
Prisoner in Libby 

Officer of Prison Guard, C. S. A 

C. S. A 

Capt. Thornton's Servant 

Darkey, - Alius in Love 

Prisoner in Libby 

Dressed as a Girl of the Period 



LADY CHARACTERS. 

Lucy Johnson, Alice Gray. 

Jerusha Johnson, Abby Smith, 

America. 



15 to 20 Ladies for Tableaux, 4 Officers and 20 to 60 Soldiers, 6 Moun- 
taineers, 4 Refugees, 8 Prisoners. Citizens, Lady and two 
Children, about seven and eight years of age. 



OOSTTT^v^B. 



Mr. Ludlow. — ist, Gentleman's dress suit. 2d, Change at will. 
Louis Ludlow. — ist, Citizen's dress. 2d, Sergt. U. S. Army. 3d, 

Capt. U. S. Army. 
Jackson Ludlow. — ist, Citizen's dress. 2d, Private U. S. Army. 
Farmer Johnson. — ist, Plain suit. 2d, Change at will. 
Jack Johnson. — ist, Citizen's dress. 2d, Private U. S. Army. 
Sam Roberts. — ist, Plain suit. 2d, Private U. S. Army. 
Jim Hansom. — ist, Plain suit. 2d, Private U. S. Army. 
Squire Williams. — ist. Plain citizen's dress. 2d, Change at will. 
Alfred Thornton. — ist. Stylish street dress. 2d, Capt. C. S. A. 
Tom Flynn. — ist, Shabby suit. 2d, Ragged uniform, C. S. A. 3d, 

Plain Citizen's suit. 
Bob Mason. — ist, Mountain dress. 2d, Mountain dress. 3d, As Rebel 

Officer. 4th, U. S. Soldier. 
Long George. — Mountain hunter's costume. 
Peter Hygley. — ist, Plain citizen's dress. 2d, Private U. S. A. 
Father Allen. — Ragged dress, white beard, and long white hair. 
Mountaineers.— Rough Citizen's clothes. 
Refugees. — Rough clothes of various kinds. 
Prisoners. — Old Army clothes, very ragged. 
Washington. — ist. Fancy dress. 2d, Soldier's suit. 
Darkey Girl. — Fancy dress. 
TONEY. — 1st, Plain grey dress. 
Lucy Johnson. — ist, Neat home suit. 2d, Street dress. 3d, Plain 

black. 4th, Change at will. 
Jerusha Johnson. — ist. Plain home suit. 2d, Street dress. 3d, Change 

at will. 
Abby Smith. — ist, Neat servant's suit. 2d, Street dress. 3d, Change 

at will. 
Alice Gray. — ist, Neat home suit. 2d, Walking suit. 
America. — Goddess of Liberty dress. 
Ladies for Tableaux. — All white dresses. 



This Book is not printed for sale, but must 
be returned to the Manager. 



THE COLOR GUARD 



-4^*^^ 



ACT I. 

SCENE FIRST. 

Village street and post office. Squ IRE Williams, Farmer Johnson 
and Citizens discovered waiting for the maiL Lively music. 

Squire W. Now, let me say, Farmer Johnson, I don't think we're 
agoing to have any war. My opinion is this — I'm a school trustee, and 
ought to know — the politicians and provision men have formed a combi- 
nation to run up prices, so they've started this story about war. Now, 
I'll bet my best heifer I'm right. 

Farmer J. Well, I know you're pretty long-headed, Squire, but I dif- 
fer, for once, with you. There's alius fire whar there's smoke. My Jack 
was over to Portsmouth yesterday, and he heard it read out of a paper 
that the Southern people had fired on the flag someweres down South, 
and that Lincoln, as you fellahs 'lected, had called for a whole lot of men. 
I didn't vote for Lincoln, but by the 'Ternal, I'll stand by the Union, and 
so will my boy. He ain't old enough to vote, but he dared that sneak, 
Alf. Thornton to fight not long 'go, and I jest reckon he can lick any man 
of his years south of the Ohio. Them's my principles. 

Squire W. Now, Mr. Johnson, don't get excited. I stick to my opin- 
ion, and if there's to be a war I'll send in Jim Hanson, my son-in-law, if it 
makes Susan Maria a widder. But see, the mail has just come in. Let 
us see the postmaster, and borrow a paper. 

Postmaster. {At window). Thunder and greased lightning, friends, we 
are in for it. 

Enter Tom Flynn, r. i. e. 

Tom F. Musha, listen to that fellow, what does he mane we're in for ? 
If it's a fight, Tom Flynn's yer boy. I'll fight any man in the place for 
one dollar and fifty cents. Gorra, but I'd make it a thousand if I had the 
money. 

Mr. Ludlow, entering from l. i. e. Hallo Tom ! What are you so 
excited about ? 

Tom F. Well, Mr. Ludlow, a man of your sense to ask me that : shure 
aren't we going to have a big war, and barrin yourself, Mr. Ludlow, I can 
whap any man in the place. 

Mr. L. ( To the Postmaster). You seem excited, Mr. McDonald. Anything 
for me to-dav ? 



Postmaster, Oh ! Mr. Ludlow ! We are ruined. The Union busted, 
the flag insulted, and the devil to pay. Here, you have a big mail, one 
of the letters has a southern post-mark on it. Reckon it's from your 
brother — it's post-marked Atlanta, Georgia. 

{Hands Mr. L. « bitndle. Mr. 'L. glances hurriedly at a paper). 

Squire W. I don't get any papers ; but if you'd loan me that what 
you're reading, Mr. Ludlow, I'd be very much obliged. 

Mr, L. Certainly, Squire. {Hatids paper ^ opens letter and reads). 

Squire H". Friend Johnson, I back down. I cave, I obsquatulate : it 
ain't the politicians and provision men. By the livin' thunder, it's the 
politicians alone. War ! War ! War I The paper's covered with it. 
I know'd it was comin'. Didn't I alius say we'd have war. I'll bet my 
best colt, my Susan Maria is goin' to be a widder ! 

Fatmer J, You're a heavy old prophet, Squire. You just take the 
shine out of Joe Young and all the Mormons. Let me see the paper. 
[7 akes paper ^ reads ^ and comments). Lincoln has called for seventy-five 
thousand men. Lord ! what a big pile ! The States are to be divided ? 
Not by the 'Tarnel, while me and my boy Jack's livin'. (Reads). See 
here. Squire ! Why, our Guverner calls for men. That's my stile. That's 
the way to show Ohio may vote as she chooses ; but, by the 'Tarnel, 
Ohio stands by the Union. 

Tom F. To the devil wid the Guverner. If ye's want any fightin' 
done, jist sind for Tom Flynn. Begorra, the Flynns were always in for a 
foight. 

Enter Jack JoHNSON, 2 e. r., and lays hand on shoulder o/ToVl F. 

Jack y. Well, Tom, what are you blowing about ? Do you want to 
fight, eh? 

Tom F. Don't mind me. Jack, agrah, but whisth, Jack, do ye mind, 
the boys are going to have some fun down beyant the town, and if you 
will come, we can have plenty of fun and all that, d'ye see. 

Jack J. Not now, Tom. The old man looks as if he wanted me. 
(Crosses to Farmer Johnson). 

Enter Jackson Ludlow, 2 E. R. 

Jacksofz L. Why, father, are you sick ? I never saw you looking so 
pale and excited. Come, let me take you home. 

Mr. L. Oh, it's nothing, my boy. But the news that comes to us to- 
day is most alarming. The South is in for war. Troops are called out 
by the Union, and you, my boy, must go, and Louis too, if both are 
needed. 

Jackson L. I am glad, father, you feel so, for I made up my mind to 
enter the army yesterday, when Jack Johnson and I were in Portsmouth. 
But what is that letter you cling to so ? 

Mr. L. It is from your uncle Martin, and your brother Thomas, who 
still remains with him. My friends, let me read this letter to you all. (All 
gather aroufid). 

Enter Alfred Thornton, 2 e. r. 

Mr. L. (Reads). 

Atlanta, Ga., April 18, 1861. 

My Dear Brother : By the time this reaches you, you will have heard 
that the South has determined to sever a Union in which it can have no 



protection, and build up a Confederacy where there will be the most am- 
ple protection for all men in the stations which God called them to fill ! 
We have struck the first blow at Charleston, and above the stars and 
stripes now floats the flag of the South. We hope to leave in peace, 
though amply prepared for war. We have plenty of friends North, and, 
knowing your spirit of justice, I think I may count you among them. You 
will be pleased to learn that Thomas, your son, has enrolled his name in 
the Georgia State Guards. He sends love to all, and I with him hope to 
hear from you before the postal communications between the separate na- 
tions cease, which I presume will be a temporary necessity of secession. 
Faithfully, your brother, Martin Ludlow. 

Squire W. Jest as I said ; them Southern fellows is for war. But we'll 
give 'em Hail Columbia, if Susan Maria lets her husband go. Him as is 
my son-in-law. 

Jackson Z. Father, this is terrible. Poor Tom, he has been led 
blindly into this. But, with your consent, I will fight for the Union, 
though every man with a drop of our blood in his veins opposes us. 

Mr, L, God bless you, my boy ; I feel as you do. 

Farmer y. Here's my Jack. I'm an old democrat, one of them as 
stands by the country, an' I'll send him in with your boys, Mr. Ludlow, 
and I'll give up my farm if Uncle Sam wants it, an' more, this ole arm can 
hold a rifle, and my eye aint too dim to guide a bullet yet, if need' be. 

Alfred T, See here, friends, my opinion is, you are all too one-sided. 
Across the Ohio river are our friends and relatives. North of us is a 
land of mean skinflints. I was born North, but raised South. 

Jack y. You mean you gambled South. 

Tom F. Let the gentleman talk. The Flynns were always for letting 
a man talk. 

Alfred T. I know my own business. This is a free country, and I am 
not afraid to say, if there is to be war, I'll draw my sword for the South. 

Farmer y, I knew you were a villain from the day you first came to 
see my daughter, and if the people felt as I do they would hang you on 
the spot. 

All shout. Hang him ! Hang the rebel ! 

Enter Louis LuDLOW, 2 e. r. 

Louis L. Stand back here ! This scene will do for the South, but not 
for the law-abiding North. A man is ever at liberty to express his sen- 
timents here without fear, no matter how much we despise him. Here, 
sir, I will escort you from the crowd, and it is with the hope that I may 
meet you some day better prepared to defend yourself. Scene closes, 

SCENE SECOND. 

Parlor in Farmer Johnson's house. Enter Jerusha Johnson ana 
Abby Smith. i. e. r. 

yerusha y. Abby Smith, you talk like a woman of the world. I am 
astonished at a girl of your good sense ; but as Mr. Goodman, our dear 
preacher, says, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." 

Abby S. {Twisting her apron.) Well, it ain't for hired help like me to 
be vanity, but I guess help can feel sorry when their fellers leave, just like 
others. I know Sam Roberts has alius been soft on me, and I've been 



8 

soft on him ; you'd be soft on him, too, Miss Jerusha, if you was me. 
Sam is the best fellah — 

Jerusha J. There ! there ! Abby Smith, not another word ; you make 
me blush about your feUows. The day will come when, as Mr. Goodman 
says, you will see " all is vanity." The world is fearfully wicked. Oh ! 
how it is changed since 1 was young— I mean since 1 was a child. I am 
young still, Mr. Goodman says. 

Abby S, Yes, mum. 

Jerusha J. My nephew, John Johnson, has determined to fight. He 
is foolishly in love with Alice Gray ; but as Mr. Goodman says, "tis vanity." 
Now, John is going to war. John has drawn his sword. Why can't Sam 
Roberts draw his sword ? 

Abby S. I don't know, mum ; but Sam has no sword, except a hammer. 
Sam's a blacksmith. 

Jerusha J, Abby, you provoke me. I speak in figures. 

Abby S. Yes, mum ; that's the way Sam and me dance cortillions. 

Jerusha J. The government will give him a sword. There are too 
many men in the world — let them kill each other off— except John and 
Mr. Goodman. 

Abby S. Yes, mum ; there are too many men, except Sam. 
Enter LucY Johnson, i. e. r. 

Lucy J. Well, aunt, has Abby been telling you that Sam Roberts is 
going to leave h^r } 

Jerusha J. Yes, my child : but, as Mr. Goodman says, "All is vanity." 

Lucy J. I have been giving Solomon credit for that refreshing senti- 
ment, aunt. But, if you will pardon me, I should like to have the parlor 
to myself a few moments. I am informed a visitor in the hall desires to 
see me alone for a moment. {Exit Abby S., i. e. l). 

Jerusha J. [Crossing to R.) Some vile man. Oh ! that my niece 
would renounce the world, as Mr. Goodman says. {Exit I. E. R.) 
Enter ALFRED Thornton, i. e. l. 

Alfred T. Ah ! Miss Lucy, you are cruel to keep me waiting so long. 
But I am afraid by seeing you — 

L^ucy y. Mr. Thornton will confer a favor by transacting his business 
with me as soon as possible. I have another engagement. 

Alfred T. I can imas^ine that engagement. Miss Lucy. I hope to sever 
it some day. I came to say that to-night I start South, to be absent 
Heaven only knows how long. I could not leave without coming to say 
farewell, and assure you of my love. 

Lucy J. Sir, I told you before this subject was offensive to me ; why 
will you persist ? 

Alfred T. Miss Lucy, let the depth of my devotion be my only excuse. 
I know I have been bad in many things, but pure in this, my worship of 
you. I go to fight for what I deem right ; and, ere I leave, tell me you 
do not hate me, and that, in hours of peril, you will pray, at least, for my 
safety. 

Lucy J. I pray for your safety } I, whose brother and friends are go- 
ing to fight against you, pray for your safety ? Why, Alfred Thornton, 
this is the very sublimity of impudence and cool effrontery. No, Sir ! 
while I shall invoke Heaven to bring peace to my country, I shall pray 
that justice be meted out to the bad men who have brought sorrow to my 



home and my heart. Leave me, Mr. Thornton ; this subject is even more 
objectionable than that of your love 

Alfred T. Miss Lucy, listen to me. I am not so bad that the slight- 
est word you could utter would make me a good man. I am a Southern 
man in feeling, but a yes from your lips would lead me to fight in any 
cause. The faintest hope of your love would make me respond to-morrow 
to Lincoln's call. If you would save me, Miss Johnson, Miss Lucy, do 
not cast me off without a hearing 

Lucy y. Now, sir, I despise you. Your words confirm my worst fears 
of your utter want of principle. lean respect the Southern people who 
honestly act out their errors ; but a man whose sword hangs upon a 
woman's word, when great principles are at stake, should not be trusted 
even by his friends, 

Alfred T. You are as cruel as you are beautiful. I have been a wan-^ 
derer in the world, without relatives or love till I met you. Is it not 
worth your while to try my salvation ? Why crush me still lower, when 
you can raise me to your own level ? 

Lucy y. I would save you, Mr. Thornton. I would do much to make 
you a good, true man. If you only change now, I can give you the love 
of a sister. 

Alfred T» No more than a sister's love ? 

Lucy y. No more than a sister's love is mine to give. 

Alfred T. Then the die is cast; and while blood flows through this- 
strong right arm it will hold a sword against those you love ; and while 
my heart beats, its every throb will be hatred and death to Louis Ludlow. 
(Exit I. E. L.) 

Lucy y. Yes — death to the men who saved your life. (Solus.) Oh ! 
my Father above, would that this fearful dream of death would pass 
away. One short month ago, and who so happy as I .? Home, brother, 
and Louis ! Now, all seems dark as at that time far away back when my 
mother died. Oh, I ouis ! you must go, though it breaks my heart. My 
brave, noble Louis ! Enter Abby S., e. l. 

Abby S. Oh, Miss Lucy ! you look so pale ! I feel very pale, too, on 
account of Sam, though your aunt Jerusha says *' 'tis vanity." Your 
vanity is at the door, Miss Lucy — Mr. Louis Ludlow. He looks awful 
riled. Guess he met that other vanity, Thornton, down the road. 

Lucy y. Tell Mr. Ludlow to come in, Abby. {Exit Abby S., i. e. l.) 
Enter Louis L., I. E. L. 

Lucy y. Oh, Louis ! welcome ! welcome ! I have wanted to see you 
very much. 

Lo2iis L. Lucy, why rre you so excited ! Has that man, Thornton, 
been here ? Come, tell me all about it. 

Lucy y. Oh ! yes, Louis, he has been talking again. I know I ought 
not to have seen him ; but i hoped I might be able to make him see the 
right. 

Louis L. You are the kindest girl in the world, and the best ; but I 
am afraid you undertook too great a task in making Thornton a good 
man. He would have been in his grave to-day but for me ; yet when I 
met him on the road, as he left here, he passed me with a scowl and low 
mutterings of revenge. 

Lucy y Promise me, Louis, you will not court a difficulty with him. 



lO 

Louis L. But if I meet him in arms against me, Lucy — 

Lucy J. Well, then, Louis, I would wound him in the arm so that he 
could not fight. 

Louis L. [LaugkiNg.l Would it not be better to wound him so that 
he could not run ? 

Lucy y Well, as you say, Louis, but please don't kill any one. I do 
so hope nobody will be killed in this fearful war. 

Louis L. [Latig/riug.'\ It would certainly be a fearful war if there 
were no one killed. Hut, my darling, [taking her handy] if all the soldiers 
were like you, we would meet on the field, drop our arms, and shake 
hands as we do and be friends, eh ? 

Lucy y. Yes, indeed, Louis ! But I want to tell you we have been 
making a beautiful flag. Alice Gray and myself bought the material. To- 
morrow, before you leave, we are going to present it to you. Won't you 
guard it for my sake .? 

Louis L. ¥ or you7^ sake! You selfish little mortal. I will guard it 
for the sake of the Union, and cherish that particular flag for my darling, 
and our own little union — that is to be. But I must leave. We are 
enrolling men in the village, and I must get back. Now, good-bye till 
to-morrow. {Exit I. E. L.) 

Lucy y. Good-bye, my own brave Louis. {£xit i. e. R.) {Scene closes.) 

SCENE THIRD. 

Landscape or wood. Enter Sam Roberts, i. e. l. 

Sam R. [Musing.'] It's got ter be did ; no backen' out now. I've 
been examined, looked in the teeth ; and the doctor, seein' i wuz neither 
troubled with ringbone, spavin, or heaves, passed me. Then I swore — 
darned if I can jest call to mind the long rigmarole, but reckon 'tis all 
right — but I can't exactly see why swearin' a feller in should make him a 
better soldier. Why, if I was to cuss all day I couldn't love Abby 
mor'n I do. Abby is hard to beat that's so. 

Enter Washington, i. e. r. 

Was/i. How is yer to-day, Mr. Roberts ? Yeh looks kinder salubrious 
and discomfited. 

Sa7n. R. 1 hat's jest what ails me, Wash. Beswitched if I knowed 
what it was before, but you express my condition to a hair. Wash. 

M ash. Yes, Mr. Roberts. 

Sam. R. [Confidentially.] Wash, own up ; wuz yeh ever in love .'' 

Wash. [Laughing.] Oh, Mr. Roberts, yeh's pokm' fun at dis chile. 

Sa7n. R. Come ! tell me. 

Wash. Yes, Mr. Roberts. {Laughing.) Gosh ! I wuz neber out ol> 
lub since I wuz twelve year old. 

Sa7n. R. Well, Til be switched ! You're a healthy old heart smasher, 
you are. Tell me. Wash, how did you feel when you had it wust ? 

Wash. Feel ! Oh. Mr. Roberts, I felt as if 1 owned four hundred 
dollars, and as if I didn't know whether the chap that kept it for me 
would give it back or not. I felt good, and then kinder onsartin ; I had 
chills, and then, again I felt like a cooken stove at Christmas. Oh, golly I 
Mr. Roberts, take my 'vice; I'se had 'sperience. Never fall in love, 
more 'ticularly if it's wid another chap's gal, and he's sasseycr than you. 
Oh, I clare to goodness, then it's jest orful. 



II 

Sam. R. Whv, Wash, did you ever fall in love with another chap's 
gal ? 

Wash. {^Laiighing^ Reckon I never fell in love wid any udder kind 
of a gal. That s why I'se not married. 

Sam R Never know'd why yeh wuz a misable old bachelor before, 
Wash. Fooling with other chap's gals, eh ? Well, I'd jest like so.iie one 
to make love to Abby. I'm spilen to see some fellar a fo^lin' aroun' my 
gal. [Laying his hand excitedly on Washes shoulder, and clenching his 
^j-/.] I'd mash him like an egg in a vise. I'd bust him ! I'd — 

Wash. Oh, don't ! there, how yeh hurt my shoulder ! I aint agoin' 
fur yer gal, 'fore goodness I'se not ! I'se innocent as a lamb, I've gub up 
maken' love. 

Sa7n. R. [Laughing.l Didn't mean to hurt yeh, Wash. That's all 
right. I'm goin' fur a soger, yeh see. and jest thought I'd practice on 
you. I ain't afraid of Abby, not by a jug full. Good-bye, I'm off to see 
her before I leave. [Exit Sam., i. e. r.] 

Wash. He's the smoothest lover I ever did see. He's gentler nor an 
alligator. Gosh ! got the rheumatiz bad in that are shoulder. If a man 
wants to make love hunky, let 'em spark two gals at once and both on 
'em know it. Ain't it citin ? ki, yi ! Ain't I bin thar } Ain't I lost whole 
handfuls ob wool by dat are operation } but its fun, and I'll keep it up. 
[Exit L. I. E ] 

SCENE FOURTH. 

Wood or landscape. Enter Troops, i. e. l. Stage march or Drill, 
Young Ladies, with flag. Vma.\gkk^ following, r. h. Music, 

Officer [Commands.) Attention ! Color guard two paces to the front, 
march ; Order arms ; Parade rest ; Color sergeant to the front, march. 
{Color Bearer) — Louis Ludlow. [Color Guard) — Jackson Ludlow, Jack 
Johnson, Sam Roberts and Jim Hansom. 

Lucy y. My friends, the flag which I hold in my hand is the emblem of 
our whole nation. Its glorious field of blue represents not only our own 
beloved Ohio, but every State in the North now arming for the defense, 
and every state in the South now arrayed against us in rebellion. This 
flag, wrought by your sisters' hands, is covered by our tears of sorrow at 
this parting, and hallowed by our prayers for its safety and your return. 
I need not tell you to guard it bravely, for I am convinced that the brave 
men before me will protect its folds. You will return it in safety, and I 
pray God that with it may come the brave color guard to whom I entrust 
it. In the dark hours of battle, look up to the God of Justice, look 
around on the land of our fathers, and remember the sisters who bow for 
you in prayer. 

Lottis L. Miss Johnson, permit me, in behalf of my comrades, to thank 
you, and the thoughtful ladies who co-operated with you, in procuring 
this flag. We accept it with a full appreciation of the trust imposed 
through you by the nation. We are about to march to the scene of war, 
and we have that dread of death incident to all men who risk life for 
principle. One by one of the color guard, now standing before you, may 
drop off by bullet or disease ; but this glorious banner will fall into 
hands as brave. While God gives us strength to guard it — in the sum- 



12 

mer's march, the winter's bivouac, and the battle's fearful storm — we will 
ever keep it pointed to that Heaven from which our greatest protection 
must come. With you, we pray that all may return in safety, bringjing 
back the colors without a stain, and the news of a land preserved through 
our valor and your devotion, 

Rally Around the Flag. 
Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 
We will rally from the hill-side, we'll rally from the plain. 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 
Chorus. — The Union forever ! Hurrah, boys, hurrah ! 

Down with the traitors and up with the stars, 
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. Chorus, 
[Repeat Chorus twice.] 

(Attention^ Color Guard ! About-face I To your post- march ! OFFICER 
commands — Attention! Carry arms! Present arm.s ! Band salute ! 
Carry arms ! Right face ! Port arms ! Break ranks- march ! 

Mr. L. (To Lours L.) Well, my boy, you have something to fight 
ior. May God bless you and bring you back in safety- But go, Lucy is 
watching you. I must go and see Jackson, and all the boys. 

Louis L. A short time, dear father, and I hope to return, bringing 
you the good news of a restored land, \jfoins Lucy J.] Well, Lucy, 
that was a beautiful speech of yours, and a beautiful flag accompanied it. 

Lucy J. Certainly, a beautiful flag, Louis. But be careful for my 
sake. Don't rush into danger unless there is a necessity, will you ? 
Please say you won't. 

Louis L. Rush into unnecessary danger ! Why, you dear girl, I have 
you to live for. Why should I expose myself.^ Now, tell me you will 
write very long, gossippy letters, all about the village ; and you can tell 
me if Abby Smith gets a beau instead of Sam. 

Abby S. No, thank you, Mr. Ludlow, I am satisfied with my vanity. 
Miss Jerusha is right — all the world is vanity to me. Isn't it, Sam ? 

Sam. R. Your head is level there, Abby. Here is something I want 
you to keep for my sake. [Hands her a red ha7td kerchief] 

Abby S. I'll wear this night and day, even if Miss Jerusha does call it 
vanity. [Assembly is given.] 

Louis L. The bugle sounds. Good-bye, my own, own one ! 

Lucy y. Good-bye, Louis. 
\Farewell — Soldiers shake hands with villagers. Battalio7t forms. Officer 
commands — Attention ! Present arms ! Carry arms ! Battalion- right 
face ! Music— ''Girl I left Behind Me:' Troops file offstage. Villagers- R. 
Tableaux — The Rising of the North.) 

CURTAIN. 



13 

ACT II. 

SCENE FIRST. 

Recruiting scene in the mou7ttains of Tennessee. Alfred Thornton, 
Tom Flynn, Bob Mason, Long George, and Mountain Men dis- 
c(n.'ered. Lively j?iusic. 

Alfred T. No, friends, we have nothing to hope for from the Yankees 
of any party. Democrats and Republicans are equal in their hate and 
opposition. 

Bob M. See here, stranger, we'uns har in the mountains ain't much 
yer see on book larnin, but we ken read the trees and tell whin spring's 
leavin' or the winter's comin' on. We'uns kin look at the sky an' tell if 
thar's agoin' to be a storm, and we kin measure a man, an jest tell how 
full he is of fight. 

Alfred T. I dont understand you, sir. You do not wish to insult me 
by saying I will not fight ? 

Bob M. Sartin not, stranger. But we'uns har in the mountains knows 
as how noise is harmless, and men as brags ain't things to be skeered of. 

Alfred T. It was not my intention to scare anybody, for I presume I 
am among friends. 

Bob M. Stranger, I've been presumin' I'd be rich each yar since I 
were a boy, and dogoned if I ain't wantin' of money now as a hen is of 
horns. Why, you might as well try to build a pig pen out of cold mush, 
as to do anything by presumin'. 

Peter H. [Enteri?ig at door i7iflat.'] 

Peter H, Goot morgen, friends, how you was ? I hopes you was well. 

Tom F. Good morning to ye, Mr. Dutchman. What have ye's got 
in your traveling bag ? Have ye's just come over? I don't think yer 
could get more than three days on that — 

Peter H. Vat vas dot you have got do say aboud dot pag, I vas gotten 
mine clothes in it. Say, [to Tom Flynn,) are you the boss here t 

Tom F: No, faith, there's the man, {pointing to Bill Davis.) Peter H. 
Mine friend, you dund have known mine brodder, he is by the name of 
Yacob, unt he was got a crookedy eye, unt was limp by his foot. 

Mountaineer. No, we'uns don't know ennything about any brother. 
Whar did you'ans come from, an' what ar' you'ans going to do hyar } 
Going into our Army ; we'uns are raising men. 

Peter H. No, sir, you dund raise me. I was a quiet citizen, unt dund 
was a fightin' man, anyhow. I was lookin's for mine brodder, Yacob, 
unt as soon as got me him, I was got me back to my country shust right 
away, ain't it > 

Mountaineer. Well, never mind your brother, just you take a seat and 
maybe you'll find him. Now, then, stranger, let we'uns have that story 
of your'n, all about them cussed Yanks. 

Alfred T. I lived for some time past peacefully on the Ohio river, 
within sight^of the Sunny South. I would have remained there all my 
life, had not the South been wronged ; had not you men been deprived of 
your rights ; had not your liberties been assailed and your homes threat- 
ened. Friends, when I think of the outrage I was subjected to in leaving 
the North to join you, it quite unmans me. 



Tom h. Mr Thornton, be aisy now, will 3^ees ; don't be after weaken- 
ing now. Think what yees have come all this way fur. Give them brave 
speeches, an' yer have thim sure. 

Alft cd T. Yes, my friends, if you will listen to me, your hate for the 
cowardly Yankees will become more inttnse, and your determination 
stronger to resist them. The day the news came to our village that the 
South dared to assert her rights by firing on the Stars and Stripes, the 
emblem of abolition and oppression, I dared, as a freeman, to express 
my feelings for the South. But was I permitted to go on ? No ! a hun- 
dred cowards, with a rope to hang me, gathered around and threatened 
my life. I had but one friend, brave Tom Flynn the man who accom- 
panied me here. 

Tom F. Yer right there, Mr. Thornton, it's yourself that always was a 
friend to Tom, and if ever I wanted a dollar, it's yerself that had that 
same. 

Bob M. Stranger, I'm not much on talk, but this much I do want to 
know, and that is : If you'uns want ennything, spit it out. I am willing 
to do ennything to dry up that feller that will talk like an old woman 
with the toothache. Cut wMth it, an' let's hear what it is. 

Pdcr //. Oh, dunder und blixen, who was goten me my clothes bag ; 
look here, mine friends, dond you know who w^as tooked mine bag, oh, 
say, mine friend, Mr. Irishman, dond you seen mine leetlebag? I vill 
give swei dollar, off you blease tell me vere dot bag was. 

Tom F. Oh, bother you and your bag, do you think the likes of the 
Flynns w^ould be after stealing yer dirty old clothes, shure, it's the ship 
fever yer have in them. 

Bob M, See hyar, \to one of t/ic mou7itainecrs, w/io has taken Peter's 
bagj and is s/ipping- ont of f/ie door 7uith it.'] You dogoned cuss, you kin 
play them tricks on one of yer own kind, but this man is a stranger, and 
we'uns hyar in the mountains take no advantage of a stranger. We'uns 
treat every man right until we find him out. Now, from what I have seen 
you do, I take it you don't belong in these parts. You had better take 
my advice and git. {Exit inonntaineer by door.) 

Peter H. Ah ! you was a nice man, you was, you took mine bag, now 
lyust can dold you I lick you so quick dot it will make your head SR'im 
off, dond you belief it t 

Tom F. Oh, yes, faith, I believe yer could get away with a dozen like 
him ; go in Dutch, I'll hold yer coat. 

Peter H. No, sir, you dond can do dat ; I can hold me my own coat, unt 
I can got aw^ay mit him mitout daking my coat off, dond you forgot it. 

Mountaineer. Come, this will never do ; dry up thar, Mr. Dutchman, 
the stranger will never get through if you'ans keep a 'sturbin him this 
way ; pile in with your story, stranger. 

Alfred T. When the Yankees threatened to hang me, I pulled out 
these, [displaying pistols), and, facing them, dared them all, and the cow- 
ards fell back. I told them then, I intended going into Tennessee to 
raise a company of mountain men to battle for the South. For long days 
and nights I have traveled to reach here. I am now among you. Who 
is willing to join me } 



15 

All except Bob M. and Long George shout I, I, stranger ! 

Mountaijieer. Bob Mason, ain't you and Long George agoin to join us 
to fight for Tennessee ? 

Bob M. I ain't a raan of book larnin' like this stranger, whose tongue 
is as smooth as ice, an' as dangerous, while his heart is as hard an' as 
cold ; but afore I fight the Yankees, I want to know whar they have 
wronged me an* mine. My young 'uns are safe on the mountain, an' I kin 
come an' go with none to stop me. Long ago I heerd my father speak of 
Gineral Jackson and the whole Union, an' by that Lm goin' to stan'. I 
have no slaves, nor wouldn't have if I could. I alius thought it sneakin' 
to steal the game killed by another man's rifle. This is a rich man's 
quarrel ; let the rich men fight for the South. I'll stan' by the Union, 
an' it'll be some onhealthy for the cuss that tries to stop me. 

Mountaineer. If yer wuz South, Bob Mason, they'd hang yuu. 
) Alfred T. Yes ; and if the brave men of the South did their duty they 
would hang him where he stands. 

Crowd. Shoot the scoundrel ! Hang him up ! Cut his heart out ! 
{They rush at ht?n with knives and pistols. Bob J/., 7uith Long G. beside 
him, coolly backs itp against the door, a pistol in each ha?id. Exeunt Tom F. 
and Peter H., hurriedly.) 

Bob. M. You cowards and skunks, tj turn on a mountain man for 
darin' to do right. Back, there, or by the ghost of Gineral Jackson, ['11 
send daylight through you. [To Thornton). Out of my path. Long George 
an' me is goin' North, whar you cum'd from, and let the devil tempt none 
of you to stop me. Keep alongside, George ; the cowards know me too 
well to shoot. We'uns will return, an' look out, you cowards, when we 
light the signal for the hunt on the mountain. [Scene closes). 

SCENE SECOND. 

Road or landscape. Enter Peter Hvgley, i. e. l. 
Peter H. Oh, my, what peoples, yust pull dem pistols unt shoot mens 
yust as eisy as nottings, unt steal. I yust dink me dot I was by de Castle 
Garten by de way dot carpet bag was gone so quick. Hillo ! here comes 
one of dem fellows, by chimney dot was dot Irishman, I yust dink he was 
a goot fellow. I will see what he wants. 

Enter Tom Fl\nn, e. l. [singing). 

Air. — Hill of Glen O^Kery. 
Och, my name is bould Morgan McCarty, from Thrim, 
Me relations all died except one brother, Jim. 
Tom F. [discovering Peter H.] Ah, ye are there, are ye ; well, by the 
piper that played before Moses, but I thought by the way ye left the 
house, that yer wur half over the Cumberland Mountains by this time. 

Peter IL. No, sir, I dond was going over dem mountains, I was yust 
was gone to look for mine brodder ; you dond was acquainted with mine 
brodder, Yacob, he was a nice mens, he was. I yust dink me dot dem 
peoples was a set of loafer mens, unt off I yust got me my hand off dot 
mens wat tooked mine bag. I would haf me his headt off; dot what's de 
matter, I yust got me mine mad up ! 

Tom F. Now kape your breath to cool your stir-about, an' don't, if ye 



i6 

value yer life, provoke Tom Flynn to foight. Shure if I wuz to lay nie 
paw on ye, divil a one ye'd have time to offer up a prayer till ye'd be 
where dhrinks are scarcer and more needed than in Aist Tennessee. (/// 
a milder tone.) But come here ; let us be frien's, an' tell me if yer parents 
are livin' an' how many children ye have the dead image of ycrsel' ; and, 
avtck, just inform me if ye could loan a dacint member of my family a 
dollar and fifty cints for one hour an' a half. I'm expectin' money. {Aside). 
Musha, God knows it's mysel' has been expectin it this many a day. 

Peter H. \ReacJiing out his hafid.'] I don't want to make a fuss mit 
you. You're all recht, but I gets gross mit so much drubble all de dime. 

Tom F. Come over and lane on me, an' if ye have any thrubble jist 
pour it out to me as ye would to yer own blessed mother. 

Peter H. Vel, I tinks some dings all de dime. Yen I comes mit dis 
land, I choins the 'Mericans, und I takes vat you called de oat. 

Tom F. Yer not a native American thin ! Will, upon my conscience, 
ye talk so well I thought ye a lively Aist Tennessee mountaineer. 

Peter H. No, Ich komt from Deutchland aber Ich bin ein 'Mericaner 
by dis paper. Read de paper. [Hands Tom F. a papery Tom pretends 
to read, and turns it about in his hands.) 

Tom F. Will, what's this, shure? Me eyes ain't as young as they 
used to be. 

Peter H. Vy, das ist mine allegiance — de paber mit vich I makes 
mine vote at the polls in 'lectin time. 

To7n F. You take that paper to the polls ? 

Peter H. Oh, yah ! all de time. 

Tom F. Will, I'm sorry yer a foreigner and don't understand the In- 
glish tongue. I've been votin' since the day I landed, an' I'll die if iver 
I had to take an oath, or git a dirthy bit of paper like that to do it. 

Peter H. But vot shall I do ? Shall I go mit de Union or mit de 
State ? I have very much drubble 'bout dot. 

Tom. F. Arrah, me frien', give yersel' no trubble about goin' wid the 
Union or the Sthate, but give me dollar an' fifty cints ye promised, an' go 
wid me, an' I'll dhrink yer health in a bumper. 

Peter H. I gifs you de geld, but I tinks sometings now all de dime. 
You go mit de Sthate and I vill go mit de Union. Dat's all right. I 
swears mit de Union. You swear mit de polls. [Exeunt 2 E. R. Peter 
opening his pocket-book. \ 

SCENE THIRD. 

Rocky pass, with set rocks and fire. Bob Mason, Long George, Father 

Allen a7id Refugees discovered. 

Long G. Wall, I'm right smart glad we're in Kaintuck. Hope that 
Thornton an' his houn's won't chase us any more. Kaintuck's neutral — 
ain't for fightin' nobody. 

Bob M. You can't make a mountain cat look like a deer, nor squeeze 
fire so flat as to take it for water. Kaintuck is crouching on the hill-top, 
like a lynx, and whichever side she springs on, look out. Though it may 
be that there is a lynx waitin' to go at each side : then, I say, look out 
for a fight between the lynxes. 

Father A. Already we have lost many of our number to reach this 
place ; but we can only be safe under the flag I carried as a soldier in the 



17 

everglades ot Florida. 

Bob M. Don't be cast down, Father Allen; we'uns will stan' by you 
like as Lookout by the Tennessee. The men are posted on guard, an' if 
we are attacked again to-night, God pity the men who di^ive us to bay. 

Father A. I know you are brave, Bob ; but what are we against so 
many ? Our friends are slain on the mountains, or hanging to the pines 
on the hill sides. I do not like this place ; there is no chance for retreat. 

Bob M. No, father, no chance for retreat ; thar is no need for retreat. 
Night an' day they have driven us from our homes and families, and my 
heart is sore with our sufferings and our wrongs. Better die like brave 
men heah in Kentuck, than be dogged still farther through the mountains 
with sore feet an' starvin' inwards, an' with hearts full of sorrow. Better 
die whar the ring of our rifles will echo near our own mountains, than 
fall off, one by one, a prey to the bloodhounds who chase us. 

Long G. That talk suits me, Bob; I'm out of Tennessee, and dogoned 
if I want to run any more. 

Fugitives. It suits me. And me. And me. 

Father A, God bless you, my boys. Come near me. {Listening.) Hark I 
I heard a yell away down the mountain. Did you hear it, Bob } 

Bob M. No, Father Allen. It was the wind, I reckon, blowin' around 
the rocks. I often hear it so in the mountains at night. 

Father A. Well, I am getting kind of old, I reckon, and I ain't young, 
an' I feel the walking and starving more than younger men. Though I 
will say. Bob, I have eaten more of your bread than you have yourself 
{Listens.) I did hear a sound, Bob; I am not mistaken. It comes from 
towards Cumberland Gap. 

Bob M. (Steppijig out, shouts to a vidette along the rocks.) TomDawson ! 
Tom Dawson ! 

Echo. Hello ! 

Bob M. Can you see down the valley } 

Echo. I can, sir. 

Bob M. What do you see ? 

Echo. A light on the mountain. 

Bob M. All right Shout if it comes near. 

Echo, I will. 

Father A. I want to speak to all, for I feel the hour of our parting 
will soon come. {^Fugitives gather about Father A.] 

Lon^: G. Speak out. Father Allen, we are listening. 

Father A. You know that it will be death to fall into Thornton's hands. 

Fugitives. We do. 

Father A. You know that it will be death to return to Tennessee 
without the flag. 

Fugitives. We do. 

Father A. Let us bind ourselves together by an oath before Heaven, 
as we are now bound by our feelings. Are you willing to swear to stand 
by the last man till death, and the Union through life ? 

Fugitives. We are. 

Father A. Bob, give me the old flag. (Bob M. takes the flag from 
hunting pouch, and hands it to Father A.) 

Father A. All lay your hands on this flag, and repeat after me. {All 



i8 

lay their hands on the flag aiid nneaier their heads^ as Father A. 
speaks in a slou\ solemn voice, with his face raised.) In the presence of 
God, here in his mountain temples, I pledge my worldly goods, and stand 
ready to lay down my life to defend this flag, which I swear to protect, as 
the emblem of the whole Union ; and I promise before Heaven always to 
stand by my brothers, who are here, and to permit neither myself nor 
them to be captured alive by the rebels ; and, if God spares my life, day 
and night, winter and sumimer, in sunshine and in rain, I will battle with 
this one heart object — to bring the flag in triumph to Tennessee and every 
part of the Union ; asking God to bless us, we swear. (Business.) 

Echo. They are coming all about us. 

Bob M. Come down! come! [To Long G.) Call in the guards. 
Here P^ather Allen, stand near this rock, where you will be safe. I think the 
day is breaking. {Shooti^ig in distance. Long O^O'^q^ enters.) 

Long G. Thornton is close by. We are lost. (Bob M. coolly raises 
his rifle and fires. The rest follow and fire briskly. A cry of pain is 
heard, as fugitives fall back, and Father A. falls dying, with his face to 
the mouittai7t. Tableau — Troops inarching 7ip the Mountain. Slow Music.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

SCENE FIRST. 

Group of soldiers discovered at back. Cleaning inuskets, ^c. Others at fire. 

Saffi Roberts. (Coming down to C.) Louis, don't you think it's about 
time Wash was back } He has been gone two hours, and I see nothing 
of him yet. I am about played out, aint had nothing to eat since last 
night ; I am going to thrash him just as soon as I see him. 

Louis Ludhnv. Come, Sam, none of that ; Wash is not to blame if he 
is late in getting out here with the coffee. I told him to see if there was 
any letters. You know yesterday was mail-day ; there, you need not 
grumble any more, for here he is. Wash ciiters at L. E. Well, Wash, 
what is the news ; any letters } I am very anxious to hear from home ; 
it's almost a month since 1 got a letter. 

Wash. Yes Sir'ee ! Sergeant ! Dar am heap of news ; done had a big 
battle, and de Rebs 

Louis L. Oh ! Never mind about the battle or the Rebs, give me the 
letters. 

Wash. Yes, Sar, dats jest what I does, I never minds de battle or de 
Rebs, for I alius goes to de rear about dat time. For goodness ! I dun 
got dem letters somewhar, I know'd it — dar dey am, now boys run, got 
yer tin cups, and I dun gib yer some of de best coffee yer ever blowed yer 
bref on. Say ! Sam Robertsj I think you has a letter, I seed a little one 

Sam R. What do you know about my letters ? 

li ash. 1 know um ; I used to get dem from de same gal. 

Sam R. I swan to gracious, I'll bust your head, if yer say that you ever 
got a letter from my Abby. 

Wash. To take to ^^post-office, I guess yer had better let me finish my 
say before yer gets yer back up. 

Louis L. Come, stop this wrangling, Sam ! Here is a letter, and Jack 



19 

here is a letter for you — and a paper and letter for you Jackson — and two 
letters for myself— {turning away and crossing to right 2 E.) One from 
Lucy, I will read that one firsts [Reads letters.) 

IVash. Say ! Sam Roberts ! what Miss Abby say ; send anything to 
dis yer chile ? I'spect she done sent her 

Sam R. Look a'here, Wash ; what in thunder do you mean ? (Catck- 
iftg Wash, by the throat.) 

Wash. Her love to you, dat's what I mean, I 'clar to goodness, you is 
de worst man I eber seen, you don't let a feller get through, before you's 
got him by de throat. 

Sam R. Well, then, shut up — don't you see I am deeply interested in 
this letter ? 

Louis L. Well, Jack ! all the folks are well, but I don't like the idea 
of Lucy coming down here to nurse the wounded, and as she started on 
the day that this letter was mailed, she should be in Chattanooga now. 

Wash. Sergeant, I dun forget to told yer dat I heered dat dar whar 
whole lots of ladies from de Norf had arrived in camp and dey are gwine 
to take charge of de big hospital on de hill. 

Louis L. Wash, I wish you to go back to camp, and find out if Miss 
Johnson is among the ladies. 

Wash. What ! am Miss Lucy coming down here to nurse de wounded ? 

Noise outside — Shoutins", ^c, 

Louis L. Hello! what is the matter out there ! Two of our pickets 
are coming in and with them a prisoner. 

Sam R. Oh, that's nothing, only some Johnnie that wants to go North 
during summer. 

Enter Jim Hanson with Peter Hygley %vho is struggling and talking. 

Louis L. Who is this you have got ? 

Jim Llanson, We picked him up outside the picket line. A couple of 
us were out foraging and found him trying to hide. I think he is a spy ; 
shall we take him back to camp and have him shot. Exit r. 3 e. 

Peter LL. Nein ! nein ! mine friend ; I dond want to been shot. I was 
no Rebel. No, Sir'ee ! I was only a quiet citizen. I was looking for 
mine broder. His name w^as Yacob ; unt he lived by down by de blace 
of de name of Knoxville ; unt I was yust corned of dot blace ; unt I was 
shotted at, unt 'roled, unt den day dake me unt put into Jail Housens ; 
unt yust fife days ago slipped me oud, unt I was scooden yust so fast as I 
can, went dot men he was make me halt unt come mit him. 

Louis L. How do we know but what you are a spy ? Have you got 
any paper or letter to prove that. 

Peter H. Oh ! Yes ; I have got me a ledder from de German Consul 
at Zinzinnati, dot I was Peter Hygley of by Darmstadt ; und I was a 
soldier in mine country, unt I just dink me, off I dond can find my brudder, 
dat I will go mit de Union army, I was tired of myself, I was in so much 
trouble all de dime. 

Sam R. Say ! Dutchy ; yer had better join our fellows, they are a 
hunky set of boys, and will take good care of you. • Can yer drill and go 
through the manual ? 



20 

Peter H. Oh, yes ; I can done just what you want. 

Louis L. Fall in, men ; here conies the officer of the day. 
Enter officer of the day at Present arms. 

Officer. Well, Sergeant, how is it ; all quiet along the line ? 

Louis L, Some firing, and here is a man that was picked up on the 
picket line this morning. 

Officer. Well, my man ; what is your name, and what were you doing 
out beyond the picket line ? 

Peter LL. My name was Peter Hygley, unt I was comed down here to 
find my brudder. He was lived close by dis blace. You don't have seen 
my brudder sometimes. 

Officer. No ! We don't know anything about your brudder. I>on't you 
know you are liable to be shot as a spy, prowling round between the lines .^ 
I don't think you are one, but I must send you back to camp under guard, 
as a suspicious character ; and after the General has questioned and found 
vou all right, if you want to join my company, we will enlist you. Sergeant, 
send him back to camp. 

Louis L. {Salnting.) Jack and Jackson, take this man to headquarters 
and report. 

Enter Jim Hanson, hurriedly Saluting, 

Jim Hanso7t. There is something goins: on at the front, quite a dis 
turbance, as though the johnnies were chasing some one. [Shots are heard.') 

Officer. Sergeant, you wanted some excitement to break the monotony 
of camp, take your squad, and find out what is the matter. Don't advance 
too far. Be careful and report to me the result. 

Louis L. Fall in ! Sqiiad^ Shoulder arms. Right face, Right shoulder 
shift arms, fo7'7vard ; double quick inarch. Exit, 3 E. R. 

Officer. Men, take this man back with you. 

Peter H. Oh ! mister officer ; dey won't schoot me, will dey ? Oh ! 
mine brudder, where was you .'* 

Wash. Say ! Dutch, if you is done gone lost your brudder, I will be 
your brudder. T think you will suit me. 

Peter LL. Oh ! you gone off yourself. You was de devil's brudder, dat 
who you been. 

Officer. Com.e 1 men ; forward, march I Exit L. I. E. Wash ! you 
take care of these things. 

Wash. Yes, sar. I don't believe dat a Dutchman ; think he's a spy. 
I'se going back to camp. I will see who he am. [A couple of shots arc 
heard.) dar, dat i'll do, I'se off. Exit i. E. R. 

SCENE SECOND. 

Landscape or Wood. Enter Bob Mason, i. e. r. 

Bob M. By the ghost of Gineral Jackson, this looks bad for me. 
Wus'n an August frost, or a broken water wheel, an' no flour in the mill. 
Who'd have thought of Rebels so near our lines. I had to run like a stag 
before the bloodhoun's, last night, an' now, when I thought myself all safe, 
the dogoned gray cusses are all aroun' me, like the measels. If I kin jest 
get into our lines, we'uns will be ready. If I don't, may the Lor' help us, 
for they're cumin' down powerful strong — like a mountain river after a July 



21 

rain. Hist, there ! [Lays hands on pistol.) I'll try this way. Exit I. E. L* 
Enter, I. E. R. a Rebel scanty who crosses after Bob Mason. Next Tom 

Flynn, who crosses to the l. E. R., then stops ^ looks ahead^ then back, then 

retreats slowly back towards the R. I. E. 

Tom F. [Speaking as he retreats.) Well, Tom ; but this is nice business 
for ye' to be in, making a bloodhound of yourself, tracking Union men. 
Ey the powers, its a grand mistake ye's made in listening to that villain, 
Thornton. I am not on the right side, at all ; an' hasn't he broke his 
word with me. It's a sergeant he was going to make of me, an' I am not 
a corporal yit ! I don't like this scrape, an' I am going to git out of it in 
some way. I don't see that spalpeen behind me. I think I'll go back to 
camp. (Starts to go off I. e. r., 7vhe7t he is met by a Rebel Soldier.) 

Rebel Soldier. Halt, Tom. Who sent you back ? I have been ordered 
to watch you close, for you have been acting queer lately. Now, yu'uns 
had better go ahead and help git that ar Yank. 

To7n F. Be aisy, now. You see I jest thought of something, shure. 
It's my day to carry water to the cook, an' a divil a one of them Icnows 
where the spring is but meself ! 

Rebel Sol. Oh, come, that's too thin ; yu'un only want to get back to 
camp, that's what's the m.atter. 

To?n F. Shure, isn't that matter enough ? 

Rebel Sol. It will be a matter for both of us if you don't hurry up. 

Tom F. You'll not let me go back to camp ? 

Rebel Sol. No, sir ; nary a back. 

Tom F. I'll tell you what I'll do, we'll play a game of forty-fives to 
see who goes ahead, you or me ; what do you say ? 

Rebel Soldier. Ihe best thing you can do is to go ahead, we will be 
both reported to headquarters. 

7 om F Ah, thin, I am off. [Exit L. i. E.^/olloiced by Rebel soldier.) 

SCENE THIRD. 

Enter Bob Mason, l. 3 e., crossing to right. 

Bob M. Thar, I see 'em groppin' along, an' movin' aroun' this way by 
the hill. If I had my rifle, I'd make it unpleasant for a few of 'em afore 
they gits up. [Goes right. Shout heard. Bob M. springs bach, drawing 
pistol. 'X Yell away, yeh dogoned sneaks. Ye'll find I'm harder to git 
than a cat-fish on the mountain top. \Shot is heard. Bob '^i.Jires, killing 
one of the ?nen. Retreats to left, when more Rebels enter ^ 3 E. R., and sur- 
round him .) 

Lieut, of R. Surrender ! surrender ! you Yankee bushwhacker ! 

Bob M. \lJ71fastening his belt and laying down his pistol s.l Thar, that's 
all yeh can have at present, as the catamount said whin thev took his skin 
off. 

Lieut, of R We will not only have your skin, but your life. That's 
too nice a coat for a Yankee bushwhacker. Come out of it. I want that 
hat. Com.e down from under that kiver. Lift it. [Ttp^ning to his ?nen.] 
This is Bob Mason, the scout. Bring a rope here, boys, we will soon 
make short work of him. Blast him, that firing was too close to the 
Yankee lines. Keep a good watch down there. You have killed Thomas 
Ludlow, one of my bravest men. You have been a curse to this region. 



22 

Have you anything to say before you die ? 

Bob M. I ain't much at speakin'. Wimen that live a long time, and 
cowards, have heaps of sjab. I have done nothing to bring a blush to my 
cheek since I was born. I've fought for the Union, an' my only sorrow 
at dyin' is that I can't live to help her more. I once had a hut in the 
mountain, and a wife and children. I loved my little home an' my wife 
an' babies, but you'uns hunted me down like a stag, from hill to hill, till I 
left the State. An' then, like cowards, in the cold winter, you'uns burned 
my hut to the grojn', an my wife and little ones starved in the mountain. 
My heart has long carried a fire lit by the men who ruined me an' mine. 
I've paid you. I am willin' to be at rest, an' meet them up thar. 

Lieut, of R. Swing him up, men. \^Me7t prepare to execute Bob M., 
when a cheer is heard.l Quick, men, the Yankees are coming ! 
[Shots heard. The man fastening the ivpe falls wounded. Rebels rally 

for an instant and then fall back, when Louis LuDl.OW dashes c?i wtik 

Union soldiers^ 

Louis L. {Frees Bob M.] Hello, Bob ! We came just in time. 

Bob M. I was never so glad to see frien's in my life, as the bear said 
to the honey bees. 

Louis L. I had command of our advance picket post. I heard the 
firing some time ago, and reported to the officer in command. He sent 
me out to ascertain what it was. I hurried on, and as I came up the hill 
I saw that wounded fellow with the rope, about to hang you. 

Bob M. [Looking at wounded Rebel.] He knows somebody saw him 
right smart at that time. Thar's another fellow dead over thar. 

lumis L Cfosses and examines dead Rebel?^ Merciful Heaven ! Bob, 
you have killed my brother. This is Tom, my poor, brave, misguided 
Tom. [Kneels beside the body, and feels the heart.] Dead, dead, dead. 
Oh, Tom ! God knows how I would have saved you at the risk of my 
life ! Your heart, my brother, was always right. [Rising.] There is no 
time for sorrow. Here, boys, we must carry the body back. Bring a 
couple of muskets. [Business^^ 

Bob M. Sergeant, afore Heaven, I didn't know he was your brother. 
My hand would wither afore it would be raised against you or yours. 

Louis L. [Seizing Bob M.'s hand]. You did your duty. Bob. May 
every soldier do as well. But that poor boy was my brother, and, bitterly 
as I hate this rebellion, I could not raise my rifle against him. My poor 
father, when you hear of this. [Scene closes.] 

SCENE FOURTH. 
Union Soldiers 7narch from L. to R. across stage in this scene. 

SCENE FIFTH. 

Dark wood. Music — " Yankee Doodle!' Battle Scene. Louis LAidlow 
and all Union Soldiers on right. Rebels 07i left. Business. 

Louis L. [Rismg and feeling bleeding head.] Where am I .? Where is 
the regiment.? [LLears Rebels yell.] Oh, God, we are beaten ! The colors 
— where are the colors } [L^ooks around and picks them up.] The enemy 
is falling back this way. My flag ; the flag that Lucy gave me ; the flag 
I swore a traitor's hand should never touch ; must it be disgraced now } 



23 

No, no ! Now, God give me strength. {^Takes flag from staff and opens his 
brcast.'l Here, near my heart, I will wear it. Here, till I die, will I carry 
the colors. [Conceals the flag in his breast.) They must not see the staff. 
Ah ! there's a hollow log. [Hides flag-staff] then fall s^ pressing his hand 
to his head^ 

Enter Alfred Thornton, with squad, l. e. 3. 

Alfred T. {Looking over the line.) The enemy is advancing in force. 
See ! they are pushing back our centre. {Cheer is heard'.) They have 
captured Nolan's battery. I fear the day is lost. [Recognizes Louis L.] 
Glory ! This is the happiest day of my life. A prisoner in my hands. 
Louis Ludlow, look at your comrades advancing. 'Tis the last time you 
will ever see that hated flag. [ To his 7nen ] Take this prisoner to the 
rear, quick. [Exit left, luith Louis L.] 
[Music — ^'Star Spangled Banner.''' Rebel troops fall back^ firing, to the left 

of stage. U?iion troops charge. Tableau.'] 

CURTAIN. 



ACT IV. 
SCENE FIRST. 

Room in Libby Prison. Louis LuDLOW disco^c'cred talking to a fellow 

Prisoner. Other prisoners in the background. 

Louis L. We kept it secret up to this time. To-night we are going 
out. 

Prisoner. You astound me, lieutenant. Please explain it. 

Louis L. To begin with — I am not a lieutenant I gave my name as 
an officer, hoping to escape with the colors I still carry, and believing I 
can make it right after I get out. Now, this tunnel we have been working 
on over a month, Colonel Rose, of the Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania, 
planned. By removing the bricks in the wall of the floor below this, we 
descend into the basement. Once there, we cut through the foundation, 
and under the street. We come up to the east, near that warehouse where 
the boxes are stored. I have worked there nearly every night. Now, thank 
God, it is completed. You must be ready to go out to-night. 

Prisoner. Thank you, Ludlow, I will be ready. May I tell a friend of 
mine ? 

L^ouis L. Oh, yes ! But if too many know it I am afraid none of us 
can get out. By the way, here is a friend. You must leave me. 
[Enter Bob Mason, 2 d. l,, dressea as Rebel officer. Bob Mason and 

Louis Ludi.ow walk aside. Prisoners conversing in background. 

Louis L. Bob, you have kept me nervous every day since you came 
here ; now, on the eve of my escape, I think more of your safety than I do 
of my own. 

Bob M. It is easy to have a stout heart whin thar's no danger. Mine 
grows stronger whin I think of savin' you, and yours will not flutter whin 
you git out under the stars, an' feel God's fresh air a blowin' on your 
cheek, and know you are free. I'd die if I wuz a prisoner, as many brave 
men is dyin' here. 

Louis L. You know where the tunnel comes up near the warehouse } 

Bob M. 1 reckon I does. I've been a watchin' to see dirt raised thar 
for a week. 



24 

Louis L. To- night stand near the canal, dressed as a Rebel soldier. 
Have a gray coat ready for me, and when the guard calls, "One o'clock — 
Post Number Nine — All's well !" watch, I will be coming out of the tunnel. 

Bob M. I'll watch, an' I'll have suthin more than a coat. I've 'ranged 
to git some pistols and cartridges, besides plenty of fodder. Don't take 
none of this dogoned iron-clad corn bread you'uns have to eat heah. It's 
powerful ruinin' on the teeth. 

Louis L. Be careful, Bob, your detection would be certain death. 
• Bob M. I'll be keerful on your account. I used to fear death, comrade, 
but thar's not much to make it skeery now. I saw Thornton yesterday, 
the sneakin' cuss. Ijist wanted to look him in the eye, and tell him what 
1 thought on him. 

L^oiiis Z. Time will make all things even. Wait ! 

Bob M. I will, till " One o'clock— Post Number Nine— All's well." 



Enter Rebel guard, 3 E. L. Exit Bob M., 2 E. L. 

Officer. Turn out for roll call, Yanks. [7\:> PRISONER ^?;?/f<?^?n] Here, 
get up, you lazy dog, and go to roll call. 

L^risojier. I am sick. I cannot move. The cold floor has stiffened 
my limbs. Let me off this once. I'll be better to-morrow. 

Louis Z. The man is sick. Heaven knows he ought not to be in this 
place. Take his name and let him go. 

Officer. [ To Louis L.] None of your Yankee sass, sir. Out of the 
room at once, or you go to the cells. [Exit Louis L.] [ To Serjeant.] 
Take this Yankee's name. Reckon the man is sick. [N'anie taken and 
guard retires.) 

L^risoner. [Rising on one arm.] They are all gone. How gloomy the 
black room looks without the pale faces of my starving comrades. This 
cannot last long. How thin my arms are. Starvation, cold and filth soon 
bring down the strongest. I cannot live here much longer, with this gnaw- 
ing feeling of hunger eating into my vitals. The prison graves will soon 
number one more. Oh, for the bone my father gives his dogs. Last night 
I dreamt I was at home again. Back in dear Sandusky, with my dear 
mother and sisters and loved ones. What a banquet they spread before 
me. It drives me wild to think of the luscious food. And just as I was 
about to eat, about to still this gnawing, hurrying hunger, I awoke — awoke 
in the black night — to hear the coughs and groans of my famishing 
comrades — to hear them raving in their sleep — and to hear the guards 
without shouting at their posts, " All's well !" Would that it were. Oh! 
if I had fallen at Mission Ridge, with the fl.ag of the old Hundredth before 
my eyes, going up the mountains to victory. [Gets up.) There is no one 
here. I will go to the barred window and look at the blessed sunlight. [Goes 
to the window.) The sun is rising. How bright and glorious the world 
looks beyond these gloomy walls. The guard does not see me. I never 
knew before the sky could be so clear and blue. Oh ! if this hunger pain 
would cease for one short hour — 

Guard. {Outside.) Get back from that wmdow. 

Prisoner. The guard orders me back. Oh, God ! I can't move. My 
limbs are paralyzed. {Tries to moz'e.) 

Guard. {Outside.) Curse you, get back I I won't tell you again. 



25 

Prisoner, Don't shoot ! Oh, don't ! I can't move ! {Shouts.) Help 
me, comrades ! [^Shof is heard, and PRiS0NEK.y^//j- as his comrades rtcsh 
into the room.] 

Louis L. Merciful Heaven, Captain Forsyth is shot ! 

Prisoner. There, boys, it is over. The pain is leaving. Oh, my 
mother ! God help you when you hear of this. 

Louis L. [Feeling Prisoner's breast.) Close to the bravest heart 
that ever beat, the greatest coward that ever lived has sent a bullet. 

Prisoner. Stoop, Ludlow. Hear me. I am dying. Go to Sandusky, 
and take my dying words of love to those at home. See her ! See her ! 
Tell her I would have made her mine had God spared me. Give her this 
— I've carried it near my heart — her face. I am going, comrades, going. 
I hear from over the river the bugle call. The pain is past. Thank God ! 
thank God ! [Dies.) 

Louis L. (To prisofiers gathered around.) Another comrade has fallen 
a victim to the fiends who guard us. Better die thus than to waste away, 
day after day, famishing skeletons, with reason growing weaker. But, 
oh ! my comrades, should God spare us once more to draw a swird under 
the old flag, let us remember this brave boy's death, and strike as men 
never struck before, till these fiends melt before us. [All kneel. Tableaux.] 

SCENE SECOND. 
Enter Tony «/ r. i. e. Looking carefully around, 

Tony. I spects dis am de time dat man said he would be here, rather 
ticklish for this chile to be out, aint got pass, and de patrol will soon be 
around ; den dis chile am got to git, shuah ; dar, deys somebody coming, 
I'll make myself scarce till I see who it am. {^Hides^ 

Enter Bob Mason, disguised as Rebel Officer, L. I. E. 

Bob Mason. [Stopping at C. and looking around.] Well, this is the 
place. I wonder if that boy will be here. I have found them all true so 
far, and this one will 

Tony. [ Who has been advancing slowly while Mason is speaking?^ Be 
true, too, massa, I'se been here waiting on you. 

Bob M. All right, boy, now listen, and don't forget anything I tell you; 
you are to see the lady you spoke of and tell her to be ready to leave at 
12 o'clock to-night ; you will conduct her to the first crossing beyond the 
canal, where she will find friends ; await until two o'clock, then if I am 
not there, push on for Fortress Monroe. You will find the Union pickets 
beyond the Chickahominy. Do this right, and you are a free man, but 
be careful and make no blunder. 

Tony. Massa, you kin trust me. I'll kar for de lady, an' if need be 
will die for her. 

Bob M. That's right, boy, carry your instructions out to the letter, I 
would be here to help you, but others need my help. Here is a note and 
pistol, give them to the lady, work careful, and meet me at two o'clock 
to-night at the crossing. Good-bye, boy. [Exit l. i. e.] 

Tony. Good-bye, massa, you will find me at de place. [ExitVi. i. e.] 

SCENE THIRD. 

Richmond, Va. Plain chamber. Plaintive music. LuCY JOHNSON dis- 
covered seated at table C. Captain Alfred Thornton enters, i e. l. 
Alfred T Well, Miss Johnson, I hope the men have treated you well 



26 

since your capture near Knoxville. I had charge of you, and but for me 
^rou would have been hanged as a spy, after you were captured, roaming 
among the wounded. Do you know where you are now ? 
Lucy y, I do not, sir. 

Alfred T. You are in the city of Richmond, Virginia. You have 
made the tour from Tennessee with Longstreet's corps. We had to fall 
back before the Yankees, under that scoundrel Burnside ; but we got 
nearly even with him. I suppose you know we captured Louis Ludlow 
near Knoxville. He was in our hands some time. I tried to save him, 
but he died a few days since of his wound. 

Lucy J. [Pressing her hands to her forehead. 'I Go on, sir, and tell me 
why you have intruded. 

Alfred T. From no desire to annoy you. Miss Johnson. Every care 
bestowed upon you, up to this time, has been through my influence. I 
have saved you from insult and disgrace, and I have watched over you 
when you dreamed no friend was nigh. Even now there are charges 
against you as a spy. They can be proved ; but your life and honor must 
depend on the reply you give me. 

Lucy J. Mr. Thornton, I left my home on a holy mission — to care for 
the wounded who might fall for my country. I learned]that Louis Ludlow 
was dying, on the field before Knoxville, and went to his aid. Your men 
took me prisoner and carried me here. You are the moving spirit in this 
matter, and my death will be on your head. 

Alfred T. Louis Ludlow T respected as a brave man. He is dead, and 
his fate lies before you if you do not accept me as a friend. [Draws neai\, 
and tries to take her hand.) Oh, Lucy, I have loved you with an intensity 
weaker natures could not feel. Day and night, since I left you, your 
image has haunted me, and to win even a smile from you I would sacrifice 
all else that's worldly. 

Lucy y. Sir, I desire no more of this. It is cowardly thus to insult 
me, with the memory of the dead in my heart. I desire to be tried, 
believing that the Southern men are brave and honorable, believing that 
only your falsehood and wicked designs have kept me a prisoner. Leave 
me, sir, at once. Your very presence is worse than death. [Crosses to l.] 

Alfred T. Not so fast, Miss Johnson, not so fast. For three weeks, 
though you knew it not, I have been your escort. 

L2icy y. Oh! you are brave, thus to insult a helpless girl. [Holds uf 
her a?yns.] My amis are weaker than yours, and there is no one stronger 
here to protect me. But here, here in my heart I am conscious of my 
honor and purity. And up there, at the judgment seat, I can stand, feel- 
ing that I have tried to do my duty, knowing that by word or deed I have 
never wronged the humblest of God's creatures. Now, Mr. Thornton, 
are you prepared to do the same ? 

Alfred T. You will drive me mad if you talk so. If I sink the lowest 
of men, it is you who have driven me to it. If I rise, regretting the errors 
I ask God to forgive, it must be through you. You, with no tie that can 
bind you to the dead, can save me. Lucy, I have ever regretted drawing 
my sword against the cause you love. Give me hope. Tell me that you 
may regard me, and to-night I will make arrangements whereby we may 
escape to the Federal lines. Once there, I will fight for the Union, 



27 

nerved by the hope of your love. And you can watch me from the pro- 
tection of your home. 

Lucy y. Sir, I respect a brave man, fighting honestly in any cause. I 
despise a villain, though he stand in the pulpit. No cause would make 
vou good. No sword would make you brave. You are as devoid of 
patriotism as you are of honor. If there be one spark of love left you 
bore your mother, leave me, leave me. Crosses to r. 

Alfred T, {Excitedly.) Yes, I will leave you. You decide your own 
fate. Death awaits you, or, worse, a disgrace which will cling to your 
name and follow you to your grave ; and my curse the curse of a life you have 
blasted, will follow you forever. Death has no longer a dread for me, and 
will be sweet if it comes with the anguish of those you love. Louis 
Ludlow is not dead. (Lucy starts, and clasping her Juutds^ looks 2ip as if 
ill prayer.) He is here within hearing distance of your voice, prisoner in 
the Libby. Down below its gloomy rooms there are cells where no ray of 
light ever enters. I know Turner, and through him I will place Ludlow 
where the green slime will cover him, and where, a yellow manacled 
skeleton, he will pray for death. Think this over. His fate is in your 
hands. To-morrow I will call again. 

{Exit Alfred T., i. e. l.) 

Lucy J. {Solus,) Oh, if I could die! It seems as if my poor heart 
would break ? Louis ! my own brave Louis ! God knows I would die to 
save you ! Oh, Father of all, s:uard him ! protect me ! {Startifig.'\ A 
noise ! Who comes there .^ 

Tojiv {entering.) Hark! Don't be skeered of me missa, I ain't white 
like C'ap'n Thornton. 

Lucy y. Who are you ? What do you want here } 

Tony. Missa ! I am Tony, Cap'n Thornton's colu'd boy, and I corned 
to tell you dat you have a friend in Tony. I was at de door, missa, when 
he talked so. It won't be safe to stay back no how, missus, I am a poor 
colu'd boy and I don't know much, but I does know dat up dar der's a 
God who'l judge me by'in bye, an' I does know dat my heart is good eber 
since Lincom's clamation. I'se wanted to clar out an go whar dar's liberty 
for all men of every color. I know how good, like an angel, yeh bin 
a keering for de wounded ; I hab slept ebery night like a watch- 
dog under de wagon yeh was in, an' I said to God I'll die afore any harm 
come to yeh. 

Lucv y. I have seen you before. 

Tony. Yes, Missa, now let me say dat dar am heap ob danger, here 
wid dat bad man ; yeh kin escape to Yankee lines. 

Lucy y. Escape ! how^ ? 

L^ony. You see, missa, yeh have a friend dats a help'in me ; an' we's 
got to leave heah to-night. An den dis yere man, he am to meet we'uns 
out on de road to Fortress Monroe ; an' yer kin be dar afore two days. 
if yeh is willin' to believe, Tony will be yer friend. Heah, misss, am a 
pis'tol, ready loaded. See ! If yer say ye'll escape, keep dat ar, an' send 
a bullet to Tony's heart if he ain't as true as de sun. I swear afore 
Heaven to be your slave till I takes yeh out of danger. 

Lucy y I believe you are good, but tell me, who is this friend that is 
going to help us ? Do you know his name ! 



28 

Tony, No ! missa ; I don't know his name, but I do know dat he am 
a good an' true Union man, an' dat, to-night, he am a going to help some 
Union officer to git away, and I am to meet him at two o'clock on de road. 
Don't be skeered ; I got a heap of friends among de colu'd people, dey'll 
help me. Yeh must be ready to leab heah at 12 o'clock. 

Lucy y. Then I will trust you. To-night at 12 o'clock, [takes pistol 
and conceals it.) 

Tony, Yes ! missa ; I will be at de window. Exit L. I. E. 

Lucy y. Oh, Louis ? if you were only with me now. 

SCENE FOURTH. 

Enter Union Sergeant with sqnad^ R. i. e. 

Sergeant, Halt ! Here, Hygley, you take charge of this post, and let 
no one pass without the countersign. 

Peter H. What is dat countersign, feller. 

Sergeant. The countersign is Winchester, and keep a sharp look-out, 
for the officer of the day will soon be 'round. Don't let him catch you asleep. 
Attention, squad ! forward march ! \Exit L. I. E.] [Business.) 

Peter H. Hillo ! who is dat. (Officer of the Day enters at r. i. e.) 
Stand back or I will be shoot you. 

Off. Stop soldier, don't shoot ; I am the officer of the day. You must 
let me pass. 

Peter H. You don't can pass unless you say Windblow. 

Off\ Oh, you mean the countersign, Winchester. 

Peter H. Oh, I made me a mistake. 

Off. Look here, my man, who put you in such an important position ? 
You are the worst specimen of a soldier I ever saw. 

Peter H, Is dat so ? 

Off. Do you know anything about the duties of a soldier on guard. 

Peter H. You yust try me. 

Off. Come to attention, and salute. 

Peter H. Off I shoot, you would been a dead man. 

Off. No, no. I mean come to attention, and salute. 

Peter H. Oh, dat what you want ; veil, why don't you say so. 

Off. Do you know anything about the manual of arms ? 

Peter H, You can try what I can dond it. 

Officer puts Peter H. through the manual. Then Officer takes 
musket^ explains the manual to Peter H. After explaining maiiual^ re- 
turns the nmsket to Peter Hygley, a7id then cautions him to be more 
watchful on picket^ and exits ^ L. I. E. Btisiness. 

Sergeant enters THREE, through stopping and looking at Yy.IY.^. — Well, 
you are a nice one, why didn't halt me ? 

Peter H. Oh, I know you was yourself all the dime. 

Sergeant. But you are not to know any one while one picket, not even 
your brother. 

Peter H, Not even my broder, oh ! mine broder, I vish I could seen 
him now ? 

Sergeant, Oh, come ! I have no time to lose about your brother, i 
have orders to advance the picket line half a mile to the front. Union 



29 

prisoners are escaping and we must help the boys in. 
Peter H. I want to go to camp. 
Sergeant. Come, forward march. {Exit^ l. i. e.] 

SCENE FIFTH. 

Rebel Soldier disccrvered pacing to and fro. Bob M. gags and binds him^ 
taking soldier'' s avercoaty puts tt on^ the^t paces the beat^ and as Post No. i 
is called the first prisoner is seen coming through the openings and as Post 
No. 9 is called Louis Ludlow is out, aitd Bob Mason answers the 
challenge and the scene closes. 

SCENE SIXTH. 

Dark wood, Lucy Johnson discovered on a bank c, Tony kneeling r. h. 

Tony, Oh, lor' ! dis is orful. We is not dar yet, an' it's almos' day. 
De poor chile gin clar out. I know'd she couldn't do it', nohow. Miss 
Johnson, please look up. [Lucy turns her head toavards him.) I kin picks yeh 
up an' tote ye like a chile, we're near de Yankee lines ; do let me Miss. De 
Rebels is neah. I seed dem jist down de road after I com'd up. 

Lucy J. {Reclining on one arm.) Tony, God bless you. You have 
been good and faithful. You did your best. Oh, it is better to die here, 
wearied and starving, under the blue vault of heaven, than to bear the 
horrors of imprisonment near that bad man. 

Ton.y Let me tote yeh. Miss. Oh, I can carry yeh. (Starts and 
looks down the road.) Afore God, Miss, deyre a cumin. Dar, I sees 'em. 
Dey'll take you again. Let me carry you off. 

Lucy J. Go, Tony, save yourself I feel as if my heart were broken. 
I cannot live. Go North, to Ohio, to Carlton. See my father, and tell 
him how I died. Here {removes a ring from her finger,) give this to my 
father for Louis Ludlow should he live. {Starts np, looks down the road 
and then sinks.) Save yourself, Tony. Go, go, they are coming ! 

Tony. Yes, Miss, dey ar' cumin, but afore Heaven dey ain't Rebs, 
dat's de man w'at tole me all 'bout yeh, an' w'at gin me de pistol, an' tole 
me to fetch yeh, an' we is all right now ; don't be skeered Miss, we is 
saved. 

Enter Bob Mason and Louis Ludlow, l. 2 e. 

Lucy y. Oh, Louis, Louis, my own Louis ! [Faints in Lours L.'s 
a7'r7is.'\ 

Louis L. [To Tony.] Boy how is this ? Explain quick. [Draws 
pistol.] 

Tony. Stop, massa, I'm Miss Johnson's friend. She went to nuss in 
Tennessee, an' Cap'n Thornton captured her, an' took her with Longstreet 
to Virginia. He was agoin' to have her hung, but I heered him, an' dis 
man heah, he dun tole me to help her to git away. He will 's plain it all. 

Louis L. Bob, how is this ? You knew it all the time that Lucy was 
escaping. 

Bob M. Didn't have time was the only reason, an' besides, I didn't 
know that you knew this lady. 

Louis L. My darling Lucy, did you, indeed, carry out your plan to go 
to Tennessee to nurse the wounded } 

Lncy J. I did, Louis, I did. 



3° 

Louis L, Bob, this is all your work. How can I ever repay you ? 

Lucy, this is the friend I wrote about 

Tony. [ Who has been looking o^ to the left.'] Look heah, some one's 
cumin'. Dey's Rebs, shuah as yeh's born. Dar am Cap'n Thornton an' 
three men. I'm oif. Don't katch dis chile. 

Louis L. Yes, there they are ; Thornton and his men. Here, Lucy, 
hide behind this tree. Now, Heaven strengthen my arm to avenge our 
wrongs. 

Thornton, with a few soldiers^ rushes on the stage, in pursuit of the 
prisoners. 

Bob M. Halt, thar, an' surrender ! 

Alfred T. Surrender yourself, you scoundrel. Fire, men ! fire ? 

[Louis L. and Bob M. fire, when Thornton falls and his men retreat. 

Enter Sergeant with squad, attracted by the firing, appear upon the stage.] 

Louis L ( To Sergeant.) We are escaping prisoners. This man has 

pursued us from Richmond, and paid for his rashness. Could you carry 

him into camp ? 

Alfred T. No, no ! let me die as I have lived — by myself. Oh ! the 
heart misery of this moment. To see you two together again. But the 
curse of a blasted life will hang — will hang like a shadow over you, and 
turn to gall and bitterness every joy. I'm dying — dying ! Oh ! if death 
would come at once, without these thoughts of the future — without these 
memories of the past'. 

Louis L. Now, powerless, I cannot think you a foe. Your wound 
may not be fatal. Let us carry you back, and I promise you every care. 

Alfred T. Go ! Go ! I hate your very presence. Curse you both with 
the deepest— deepest— . {^Dies.] 

L^ouis L. [To Lucy J.] Much as he has wronged us, Lucy, I would 
not willingly have cut a day from his life, nor brought a pang to his heart. 
May Heaven be more merciful to him than he has been to us. 

SCENE SEVENTH. 
Enter Tou Flynn, i. e. r., limping. 
Tom F. I'm not worth a cint in pursuit — retreatin' is my line — not that 
I'm a coward It ain't in the Flynns to be cowards, but, by my sowkins, 
I'm jist wonderin' fwhat the blazes am I fightin' tur. Is it fur glory ? 
Jist look at me clothes. Shure, they were bad enough when new, an' two 
years' hard wearin' hasn't made them any purtier. Och ! bad luck to the 
man that thinks there's any glory in it. Well, is it patriotism } Faith, no. 
Now, if it wuz givin England a dab I'd be willin' to foight an' starve ; but 
be me conscience, from fwhat I hear, I'm foightin' on the side of England. 
Sure, it's the English sinds us the guns, an' powdher, an' clothes. The 
villains ! Well, I ain't foightin' fur pay. Arrah, luck at the money — 
eliven dollars a month in gray paper. Shure, I couldn't git a duzen sound 
eggs for the money. Och ! that's the divil's own money. Why, now, any 
dirthy bit uv papur wid the picture of a locomotive or a woman on, is 
called money. We have the pictur of the woman an' ingine on to show 
how fast the money goes. Well, I'll wait fur a good chance, an' thin, if I 
let grass grow undher my feet till I git back to Carlton, ye may shoot me. 

Enter Rebel Soldiers, hurriedly. 



31 

Soldier, Fall back, Tom ! The Yankees are close by ! Thornton is 
killed ! Come, hurry up ! 

Tom F. \Limpins^ after his comrades.] If there wuz iver a man wanted 
to be captured, his name's Tom Flynn. Och ! Mr. Thornton, I niver 
thought ye'd live furiver. Rest yer sovvl. i. E. R. 

SCENE EIGHTH. 

Gv A.'R.'D pacing his post to the front. 

Guard, [Rests.'] The air is raw and cold. I pity the poor boys escap- 
ing from prison to-night. Ah, me ! I wish this war were over. I wonder 
how Mary and the little ones are getting on. Poor girl ! It was hard to 
give me up, but she did it, and I felt prouder of the brave girl for it. It 
is two years since I saw the baby Why, it will be a fine young woman 
when I return. It won't know me. Of course not ! I wish I could see 
Mary and the little ones now. Wonder what they are doing at home. 
[Tableau — Soldier s Home.] 

Guard. [Shouts.] Four o'clock— Post Number One— All's well. (The 
shout runs from post to post.) 

Guard. {At the front, starting from rrjerie.) Four o'clock — Post 
Number Seven — All's well ! Why I cam6 near dropping to sleep at post. 
That would never do. Reveille will soon sound, and then I can turn in 
as the others turn out. [Bugle sounds reveille. Troops enter and form 
for roll call. Orderly Sergeant, after calling roll, reports to Adjutant, and 
then makes out detail for camp duties. Troops break ranks. Breakfast call. 
Soldiers move off stage.) 

Colonel. {Enters L. 3 E.) Adjutant, does the officer of the day report 
any more arrivals from Libby ? 

Adjutant. No, sir. I think all have reached our lines that can. The 
weather is bitterly cold, and the poor fellows, worn down with, hunger, 
cannot hold out. 

Colonel. [Looking to the 2 E. R.] Hello ! what have we here ? 

Adjutant. Our advanced pickets are coming in, and with them two 
prisoners — yes, and a lady, as I live ! 

Enter Sergeant with squad, R. 2 E., zvith LucY Johnson, Louis Ludlow, 

Bob Mason, and Tony. # 

Colonel. (To Louis L.) Where do you come from, sir. 

Louis L. From Libby prison. 

Colonel. And this lady ? 

Louis L. That lady is Miss Johnson, of Carlton, Ohio. She was a 
nurse, sir, in our hospitals. Was captured on the field at Knoxville, and 
brought on to Richmond as a spy. Thanks to this boy, she escaped ; and 
last night, my friend Mason and myself came across her, nearly exhausted. 
Miss Johnson is an old acquaintance of mine 

Colonel. Why, this is wonderful. With the example of such women, 
our men cannot help being brave. Where did you come from, and where 
were you when captured ? 

Louis L. I belong to an Ohio regiment, and carried the colors. I was 
shot down on the field, and captured when our troops fell back 

Colonel. And the flag — the enemy got the flag ? 

Lo7us L. (BraTi'ing himself up.) No Rebel hand ever touched the flag 



32 

swore to defend. Here, near my heart, I have carried it through the 
prison hells — and here, where bayonets can defend it, I unfurl it again to 
the winds of heaven. 

Colonel- [Graspino Louis L.'s hand.) God help you, my brave fellow. 
{To Adjutant.) Here, adjutant, our friends are cold and hungry. Conduct 
thern at once, to my quarters, and see that they want for nothing. {Exeunt 
all but ^oloncL) 

Colonel. [Pacing stage,) This is, indeed, the true age of chivalry and 
romance. Who would have imagined such sublime heroism in men and 
women of matter-of-fact America three years ago ? More than ever is my 
faith strengthened in the success of our cause. The salvation of the Union 
is the American soldier's hope of reward. Its perpetuation must be his 
heritage of glory. {Tableaux.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT V. 

SCENE FIRST. 

Lapse of eight ?nonths. 
Enter Bitmmers, laden with different articles, singing — " When Johnnie 

comes marching home again,^'' <2r»r., as they cross the Stage from L to R. 

Enter Peter Hygley, singing. 

Peter H. Well, dat was a bully nice times we hoff now, don't it. Dat 
is de feller, I bet you he is not more as seven year olt ; dat is not do olt 
for de gooses. Veil, I shust see what I have got me in dat sack. I guess 
dat dem fellers has got by de camp yust now. Hillo I dat was de t'ings 
off I wuz by my country I would make me some krout off dat. O, here is 
a Yankee kartofle, dat make goot pies. Let me see, what is dat ? Eggs, 
by chimminey. Dem was bully. Dem was from de gooses. Veil, I gets 
to camp, I guess de boys like to see me putty much. {Picks np bag and 
goose, and starts off, zuhen Wash is heard singing.) Hillo ! what dat, some 
Rebel mans, I bet you. Who was you } What is de madder mit you ? 

Enter Wash, l. i. e. 
JVash. Nothing, boss, but you see dat Colonel's horse he just got 
loose, an' I started out to find him, an' swar to gracious, massa, I thinks 
I'se dun gone and got lost, just like the Colonel's horse. 

Peter H. You was got lost, now look owit, you dond come dot game 
off me ; you oud hooking some dings, dat what was de matter off you. 

Hash. No,' boss, I clar to gracious I was an honest colored gentle- 
man, I'se none of your cornfield darkies, I was born norf, I was. 

Peter H. I dond care where vou was born, you was a contraband man 
anyhow, ain't it } 

Wash. No, sir, I'se a Yankee, I is. 

Peter H. You must dink I was blind, don't you dink I see off your 
face you was black mans. 

Wash. Don't get riled, boss I am Colonel Wilson's boy, and if you 
will take me back to camp, I will help tote dat bag. 

Peter H. Well, you yust come along, you took dat bag, and I will 
myself took dit goose. 



33 

Enter Tom Fl\nn, l. i. e. 

Tom F. Halt, and surrender in the name of the Southern Confederacy. 

Peter H, We was got lose sure. Now I say dat's the man. 

Tom F. No, sir, I want both of yees. Oh, by the piper that played 
before Moses, but that's the Dutchman I met in the mountains of Aist 
Tinnessee. Come, Dutchy, drop that bag and goose, and come along 
with me. 

Peter H. Yes, I was gone along off you. I yust got me sometings 
nice to drink ; off you like it you can have off it some. 

Tom F. Come, none of your tricks. What have yees in the bag ? 

Peter H. I was gotten some of the nicest schnapps you ever seen. 
Come, dook some of dat, and yust give dat little boy, he vas got lose. 
{Btcsiness.) 

Tom F. Well. Dutchy, here is health, and may your shadow niver 
grow less. 

Peter H. Dat's right, drink plenty. [Aside,) He is not so smart as 1 7^as. 
(Business.) Now you put down dat bottle, und you was gone along off 
me. How is dat for high ? 

Tom F. Oh, Dutchy, shure avick, I was only foolin' wid you. Oh, 
give me back me musket. 

Peter H. No, sir'ee. I don't believes me a word of dat. You yust 
pick up dat bag. Pick it up, or I will shoot you, sure. Now^ den, off you 
go ; forward, march ! {Exit l. i. e.. Wash, Tom Flynn, «;/rt^ Peter H.) 

SCENE SECOND. 

Wood or landscape. Music — '•^Marching through Georgia'' A bivouac of 

Union troops on the march to the sea. Night scene. Soldiers in groups^ 

sitting dozun. Guards to the rear. Enter bum?ners, laden with foivls, 

etc. They are greeted with laughter and cheers. 

Bob M. Afore we started on this march from Atlanta, I would have 
bet a critter to a plug of terbaker that Jim Brownlow's Tennesseans wus 
the heaviest foragers in the army ; but thar's no use talkift' ; you'uns have 
got a nat'ral knack of foragin' that no 'mount of teachin'll give. See heah, 
Sam Roberts, what in thunder did yeh bring that are bonnet heah fur ? 
We can't eat it, and Uncle Bill Sherman w^on't let yeh wear it, an' if he 
did yeh wouldn't. It's no more use than two tails to a yaller dog. 

Sam R. (r. \. e.) Now, see here. Bob, I'll tell yeh why 1 hankered 
arter that bonnet. I've got a gal up home, an' as we're a drivin' fur the 
sea, I thought it would remind me of Abby Smith We ought to have 
something to remind us of a woman 'bout camp. [To Louis L.) See here, 
Louis, do you think Abby would wear that if I took it North ? 

Louis L. R. I. E. [Laughing.) Wear it ? Yes, over your back. But boys, 
did you hear the news } 

Soldiers. [Gathering around.) No! 

Louis L. Well, we are to strike Savannah in a few days, and then we 
move North for God's country. 

Soldiers. Hurrah for God's country ! 

Sam R. We have a leader now. Let us have a song. Raise her up, 
an' I'll come in on the chorus like a sledge-hammer on a nail. 



34 

Marching Through Georgia. 
Bring that good old bugle, boys, we'll have another song, 
Sing it with the spirit that wdll move the \vorld along : 
Sing it as we used to sing it fifty thousand strong, 
While we w^ere marching through Georgia. 
Chorus — Hurrah ! Hurrah ! We'll sound the Jubilee ; 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for the flag that made us free, 
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea, 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train. 
Sixty miles of latitude, three hundred to the main; 
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain. 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

Chorus — Hurrah ! Hurrah ! We bring the Jubilee. 
{Repeat second chorus.) 

Sam R. That's a good song, but you ought to hear the one I com- 
posed about Abby. I writ it down at Kenesaw Mountain, one evenin' 
whin I was feelin' skeered, and didn't expect to see her no more. 

Soldiers. Sing it, Sam. Lift it up. 

Sa?n R. No, boys. If I wuz to sing that sad song, you'd all get cryin, 
so the waters would rise, and we wouldn't get out of camp without a 
pontoon. 

Bob M. 1 heerd a very sorry soundin' song one of our East Tennessee 
gals writ to one of Jim Brownlow's men. I can't sing any mor'n a cat 
kin blow a horn, but some of the words is 

'Tis hard for you'uns to go to war, 

'Tis hard for you'uns to fight, 
'Tis hard for you'uns to march all day 

An' sleep in a tent at night. 
But 'tis harder for we'uns from you'uns to part, 
"^hin you'uns have got we'uns's heart. [Laughter.l 
Now I call that poetry ; only Jim's fellows don't sleep much in any tents. 
[Other ar7ny songs. Laughter heard to the rear of the camp.'] 

Efiter r. I. E. Peter Hv^gley, Tom Flynn, and Wash. 
Peter H. Go aheadt, don't stopt, go right away. 

Bob M. Hello, Pete ! we thought you gone, that the Johnnies had 
scooped you up. 

Peter H. No, sir'ee, dey dond can dund dat scooping business. I have 
been scooping mineself. You see dat fellow, he was dat Irish humbugger 
man, and dat is de feller was is got lose ; see here, you yust take dat 
down off the cook house, and cook him for dinner. [Exit Wash, with 
hag dnd goose^ i. L. E.] 

Louis L. Hello ! where did you come from, Tom ? Did you drop from 
the clouds, or spring from the ground ? 

Tom F. Naythur, Mr. Ludlow. Och, luck at me ! It's mesel's the 
sorry lucken Tom Flynn, an' if it wasn't that I've given up whisky, I'd be 
the dhryest one of the family since the flood. 

Louis L. But tell me, where did you come from ? 



35 

Tom F. Shure, yeh might better ax me where I didn't come from. Fur 
three years I have been movin' night an' day, wid me body growin' slender 
an' me pay growin' less, till I jist axed meself, Tom Flynn, fwhat's all this 
fightin' an' fastin' fur ? Shure, the Yankees wuz always me friends, and 
they never hurt a chick nor a chile of mine. Well, lasht night, to the 
shame of mesel be it said, I desarted. 

Peter H. Mens, don't believe off him, I dook him myself; he was a big 

humbug fellow. ,, . „ , t r j 

Tom F. Och, don't mind him, Mr. Ludlow, shure as soon as 1 tound 
that yees* was here I made that lubberly Dutchy take me to the Gineral, 
and says I, Gineral, might I be bold enough to get yuur leave and see Mr. 
Ludlow. Of course ye may, sez he, and he sint that spalpeen of a Dutch- 
man to watch me, though it's mesel's as innocent as a lamb from this day 

an ~~-" 

Lotiis Z. Well, Tom, you need some better clothes. I will try to get 

you some. ^ ,, . -, , i i j r 

Tom F. Very thrue fur ye, Mr. Ludlow, my outside lucks bad ot 
coorse ; but if ye could see me inside it'd frighten ye, shure enough. 

Louis L. I have no doubt such an exhibition would alarm me. 

Tom F. Och ! me intestines are in a sthate of surprise. Not a bite nor 
a sup has crossed me lips, barrin' wather, since yistherday. 

Loi4is L. Well, go back there ; the boys will take care of you. (Exit 

Tom F.) , , T ij .. 

Bob M. That feller don't mean bad in good company, but I wouldn t 
like to trust him in a room whar thar wuz only one drink of whiskey, an' 
nobody lookin' at it. ^ .,,,,, . 

Louis L. Poor fellow, if he gets back to Carlton I will help him. 

Bob M. Well, Peter, have you heard the news ? 

Peter H, No, was is't dat, have we got a nudder fight ? 

Bob M. Oh, no, we are to march to Savannah, then North for home. 

Peter H. We is going home ? Let's go right away. 

Bob M. Oh, we will wait until the bugle sounds, but while we are 
waiting suppose you sing something for the boys. 
(Business of Peter's songs, etc. At the end of the song assembly sounds. 

Business of Forming Regiment, d^^c. Music— '' Marching through 

Georgia,'" with soldier' chorus) 

(Scene Closes.) 

SCENE THIRD. 

Street scene in Washington. Enter Bob Mason, i e. r. 

Bob M, Wall, this is Washington. Dogon'd if I ever seed sich a place 
in my life. Wonder why in thunder they made sich a fuss 'bout not lettin' 
the Rebels take it. 

Peter H. I dond can told it you. 

Bob M. I swan, I think it'ed a done the place right smart good to have 
the Johnnies run through it, 

Peter H. Yes, dev was putty good running peoples. 

Bob M. They alius created a healthy sintament wherever they went. 
I'll say that for them, now that they are all gin up. INeatly dressed officer 
passes.] 



36 

Peter H. Dot was a bully fellow. 

Bob M. Wall, now, thar's suthin' shiney. I'll bet a critter that are 
chap's a kernel or suthin', and never smelt powder durin' the war. 'Pears 
like, thar's piles of sich varmin in this town. I wouldn't be that chap for 
all his shiny clothes. Thunder ! I'd rather be Bob Mason who wore a 
blouse an' carried a gun, and did bis whole duty, whin thar was guns 
rattlin', than one of them peace generals an' officers, who felt big at a table 
with pens ahind thar ears, and little orderlies to run like rabbits, at their 
order. 

Peter H. I would rather been mineself, too, Bob. 

[A highly dressed colored woman passes.) 

Bob M. Thunder and lightnin', ain't that stunnin'. Don't that ar jest 
take down everything I ever seed. I wonder if them's her Sunday clothes. 

Peter H. Dot's another bully fellow. 

Bob M. Thar, I'll go down this street, Pennsylvania avenue I think 
they calls it. 

Peter H. By jiminy, we will never got out of dot place. 

Enter News Boy. 

Xcws Boy. Star, sir ! Chronikal ! Black your boots, sir ? Shine 'em 
up sir ? Army shine. Captain ? 

Bob M. See, heah, yeh sassy little catamount. Ain't you got no mother 
to mend your pants ? 

N'ews B, No, sir ; never had none. 

Peter H. Never got no mother ? 

News B. See here, Dutchy, what have you got to say about it ; if you 
don't dry up I will put a heads on you. 

Peter H. What you means ? \Business^ 

Bob M. Poor little cuss. I don't want your papers, nor boots blacked. 
Heah's a four levy bit. 

News B. {^Running off'.l Thank you, boss. 

Bob M, \Calli}2g him back.} See heah. Git them pants o' yourn re- 
inforced. Heah's ten cents. Go down past that clothin' shop, whar 
that feller Stan's watchin at the door, and bring me some chewin terbacker. 

Ne7us B. All right, sir. How is that for high, Dutchy ? {Exit-I 

Bob M. Well, I swan you're a nice one. Let a little youngster like 
that throw you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. 

Peter H, Oh, you dond need to laugh. I slipped mineself down yust 
like dat. He made a big fooler men off you, Bob. 

Bob M. How was that, Pete ? 

Peter H. Don'd you yust give dat boy money ? Well, he don'd never 
com'd back any more. 

Bob M. Oh, well, never mind, he is a poor little cuss, and ain't got no 
mother. 

Peter H. Bob, dat leedle mens have got him plenty mothers ; dat what's 
de matter. 

Bob M. Well, Pete, suppose you go an' fetch him back. 

Peter H. No, Bob, I'll stay while you go. 

Bob M. Oh, you're scared, you are. 

Peter H. I was scared ? yust watch me. {Crosses to R.] Now, Bob, 
yust come when I calls- 



37 

Bob M. All right, don't stay long, for the provost guard will pick you 
up. Remember, I have got the pass. 

Peter H. Dat's all right I yust come back so soon as I can. I got me 
glass of lager now, shure pop. [Exit r. 2 E.] 

Enter Mr. Ludlow, r. i.e. 

Mr. L. Ah, my friend, I am glad to see the soldiers home again. Are 
you one of Sherman's men ? 

Bob M. Yes, sir. I helped tote Uncle Billy roun' heah. Our folks is 
across the river neah that thundering long bridge. We'uns is waiting to 
show off — in review^ I think they calls it. 

Mr, L I have just come on from Ohio to see the review. I have two 
sons, who are with Sherman, and I hope to take them home with me. 

Bob M. Thunder, you say ! Two sons a bummin' with us down in 
Georgia ! Stranger, heah's my han'. Yer the first pure white man I've 
seed in this town. 

Mr. L. Perhaps you knew my soi-ts in the service. One was named 
Louis, and the other Jackson Ludlow. 

Bob M. What ! wSay that agin You the father of Louis Ludlow } 

Mr. L. Louis, the color-bearer, for whom I now have a commission 
as captain, is my son. 

Bob M. Hurrah ! Your hand. Both on 'em. Thar ! By thunder, 
I'm glad ter see you. My name's Bob Mason. Oh, Gineral Jackson ! 
but I'm glad to meet you. 

Mr. L. {Heartily^ No more glad than I am to meet you. My son 
writes about you every week, and I feel towards you like a brother. God 
bless you, Bob Mason. [Again shaking his hand.} 

Bob M. Come, let us leave this place and go to camp. We'll take 
care of you. We'll show you the colors, and the color guard'll put you 
through, or I ain't Bob Mason. [Extt^. 2 E.] 

Enter Peter H., I., i. E., veryf drunk^ and excited by Newsboy yelling after 
him. 

Peter II. Stop, you little swindler peoples, off you by my camp, I puts 
head off you too— Well, Bob, dot boy done gone — W^ell, und off Bob he 
has gone, too. Bob, dot was bad bisnees for me, und bad bisnees for you 
too. Well, I dinks I will go to camp. 

Enter Provost Guard, r. i. e. 

Sergeant. Hello, here, who are you ? 

Peter H. I don not can told you. 

Sergeant. Have you got a pass ? 

Peter H. Oh, yes, we have gotten swei passes. 

Sergeant. Well, let me have a look at them. 

Peter H. Oh, Bob has dem. 

Sergeant. Come, that is played out ; do you know who we are ? 

Peter H. Yes, you was a soldier mens, yust like me. 

Sergeant, We are the Provost Guard. 

Peter H. Of you provoke me I will put heads off, 

Sergeafit. Come, men, take him off to the guard house. Off with him. 



38 
SCENE FOQRTH. 

Scene in the village of Carlton. SQUIRE WILLIAMS and FARMER John- 
son discovered^ E. R. 3 E. 

Squire W. Well, Mr. Johnson, we have crushed down this rebellion 
at last. I knew we would do it. I did my level best. Susan Maria ain't 
a widder, to be sure, but Jim Hanson tried hard to be killed. He^s still 
on crutches. 

Far7ner J. Never mind your own bold exploits now, Squire, We 
must talk of nobler men. You know the boys are coming back to-day. 
The train will soon be here, and we have a welcome for them. 

Enter Tom Flynn, l. i.e. 

Tom. F. Good morrow, Mister Johnson. 

Farmer J. Good morning, Tom.. How do you like hard work ? 

Tom F. Loike hard work ? Shure it's mesel' was raised to it. I never 
felt better in my life. I never let a dhrop of whisky touch me lips. But, 
on course, to-day, wud Captain Ludfow cumin' home, it wouldn't be 
dacint not to dhrink his health. Barrin' that, divil a one of me will ever 
become a slave to the nasty stuff again. 

Enter Jerusha Johnson, Alice Gray, and Abby Smith, r. 3 e. 

Jerusha J. [To Farmer J.] W^ell, I'm glad it's all over. Who'd a 
thought Mr. Goodman would have married a hospital nurse ? Oh ! this 
war has ruined so many good men. 

Adl?y S. Miss Jerusha, I am going to leave you after Captain Ludlow 
marries Miss Lucy. 

Jerusha J. Why, what'll become of you ? Where are you going ? 

Abby S. Nowheres. Sam and me is going to start a blacksmith shop 
together. 

Ahce G. There, they are coming. Glory ! the boys are back, and 
Jack will be all the handsomer with his one arm. 

[Music — ''^ Hail to the Chief.''' Troops march on with colors. Enter Mr. 
Ludlow and Lucy J ohnson. The soldiers break ranks to exchange 
greetings for a few 77io7nents ; thejt the assembly sounds^ and the troops 
form ivith colors centre ; JACK Johnson carrying them with his remain- 
ing ar7?i.l^ 

Louis L, [Comfnands.'] Colors to the front ! Miss Johnson— four 
years ago I received from the ladies of this place, through you, a beautiful 
flag — the emblem of our united country. War was then upon us, and, as 
I accepted the colors, I promised that in our hands they should never 
receive a stain. Since then we have borne them on the march, in the 
battle, through the prison pens of the South, and with Sherman to the 
sea, and north to the capital of the land we helped to save. Here I return 
them, tattered, blood-stained and faded, but brighter with glory than they 
were before. 

Lucy y. Captain Ludlow, in the name of the ladies of Carlton, I receive 
the flag so indicative of the valor of the Color Guard, to whom we en- 
trusted it. Henceforth it will be a sacred legacy, which we shall hand 
down to the coming generations, to remind them of the heroism that kept 



39 

our land united, and to warn them, should ambition lead them to raise 
their hands against the flag. 

( While the ladies in wonder examine the flag in LuCY J.'s hand^ the order 
is given — Present arms ! Carry arms !) 

Lucy J. {Shaking hands with ]ioi^ yi.) Let me welcome you here, 
Mr. Mason, and urge you to come and live with us. 

Bob M. I'm right glad to be heah, and will often come up to see yeh ; 
but I would not live away from the mountains and rivers of East Ten- 
nessee. Nowhar' is the sky so blue, the air so clear, an' the hills so 
grand. Thar's whar is sleepin' all who had my blood in thar veins, an' 
her I loved. I'll go back an' hang up my rifle an' take to plowin' the 
valleys, and when I grows rich, you'uns must come an' see me, and stay 
all the time. 

Louis L. Well, Bob, I'm glad it's all over. Now I'm going to marry 
and settle down, and only talk of war when I meet an old comrade like 
you. [Turning to the amiience.) Yes, my friends, I hope for peace and 
prosperity henceforth, in the free South, and our united land. But should 
danger again threaten the flag, it will not want for a color guard to defend 
it. 

[Music — ^^Hail Columbia.'^' The Color G^iard. Tableaux — Union^ Free- 
dom, Prosperity.) 

CURTAIN. 



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